


Into the Abyss

by Kaz_b



Category: Dark-Hunter Series - Sherrilyn Kenyon, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Related, Angst, Bad Parenting, Dark-Hunter Sam, Dean Has Powers, Gen, Hunter Dean, Hurt Dean Winchester, Not Romance, Sam Has Powers, demon blood dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-04-01 09:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 41,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4013809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaz_b/pseuds/Kaz_b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Dark Hunter Samson rescues the battered Hunter Dean Winchester from an unknown creature neither have any idea what its going to lead to. The emotionally cold Sam finds that the the abused hunter tugs at emotions he blocked off centuries ago. Now the two get caught up in a fight to save the world against an ancient enemy that has big plans for Dean and a connection to Samson</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> There may be a few references missed if havent read certain dark hunter books but there arent really any spoilers for any series.

** Into the Abyss **

_‘Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster… for when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.’_

\- Friedrich Nietzsche

PROLOGUE

“For what it’s worth Samson I was paid a lot and we did have fun.”

Samson was frozen as his heart finally shattered.  A solid lump of pure ice breaking into a thousand crystalline shards.  Then through the flames that were slowly increasing in number he saw him, the Lord of the Philistines, and the betrayal was complete.  Azazel.  Those demonic eyes of his glowed as the flames reflected off them and he smirked as he pulled Delilah into a lovers embrace, kissing her fiercely.  His eyes found Samson’s and he could see satisfaction in them while his own were filled with horror as he tightened his grip. Sam saw Azazel slowly pull a long wicked looking knife from his belt and tried to call a warning to Delilah but the smoke was choking him and all he could do was cough.  Samson stared in agony as Azazel plunged the knife brutally into Delilah’s stomach and could only watch as his fiancé eyes widened in shock and a scream ripped from her mouth, a red stain rapidly covering her pale dress as her blood ran down the blade that Azazel had left fatally twisted in her gut.  She stared into those eyes and the question “Why?” gurgled out of her bloody lips as Azazael dropped her to the sodden ground.

“Stupid girl.  You don’t think I’m going to keep around the bitch that so easily betrayed a man that she loved do you?”

Blood spilled from the wound in her stomach into the mud where she had fallen and as she coughed more bubbled out of her mouth.  Samson continued to struggle against his bonds and his own pain, trying to get to her, to provide her with some comfort in her dying moments but to no avail.

“Oh you did?  How cute.  Stupid but cute” he said mockingly.  He patted her on the head like a dog as he turned to walk towards Samson as the pool of blood spread.  “Now die quietly will you?  That noise is annoying“ Azazael didn’t even glance at her as he approached Samson.

Samson could feel the flames reach him and they began to crawl up his already broken legs.  He tried not to cry out and give the monster the satisfaction of his pain but the scream tore from his throat as his bare skin started to burn.  Then everything seemed to pause and the pain seemed to dim enough that Samson could focus on that evil smirking face that hovered in front of his eyes.

“I’ve won Sammy Boy and it’s been beautiful.  Humans are such fun to play with.”

Samson finally tore his eyes away from the still twitching body of the woman he had loved and had been willing to die for.  The temporary freeze in the flames allowed him to choke out a single.

“Tell me why?”

“Why not?  It’s been fun.  It’s a shame really.  I had such high hopes for you if you had just told us your secret.  You could have been so very special and we could have done great, great things.”

He stepped through the flames and gently ran the back of his hand lightly across Samson’s face almost fondly and Sam shuddered in revulsion.

“Special, amazing, wonderful things.”

Samson cringed at the ominous words and if he hadn’t been in so much pain he might have noticed the yellow in Azazael’s eyes was no longer just a reflection of the flames.

With that Azazael turned and walked away as the circle of flames unfroze and began to destroy the man tied to the pole within it.  Finally Samson let out a roar.  That roar contained more than just the agony of the flames destroying his body.  It contained the betrayal of his fiancé, the rejection by his father, the death of his brother and pure, unadulterated hatred of the creature who had destroyed his home, his family, his future and his world.  That roar contained the cry of vengeance and somewhere, a Goddess heard it and smiled….

Two thousand years later (give or take a century)

The house burned.  Flames licked at the roof until the structure finally surrendered to the fiery destruction within it and the weight of the water pounding down from above and a crash shook the street.  Fire fighters rushed about the controlled chaos as they tried to contain the blaze having given up saving the house and the body within.  Behind the men the two fugitives from the flames sat huddled in the rear of an ambulance, one trying to convince himself that what he saw hadn’t been real but the other knew in that moment of lost innocence that those yellow eyes would haunt his sleep for the rest of his life instead of the happy dreams of a child.

Little Dean Winchester huddled into his Daddy’s warmth but it wasn’t the same.  He wanted his Mommy.  Where was his Mommy?  The young boy squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he tried to forget the last time he had seen her.  He tried to get the image of her bloody body surrounded by flames on the ceiling out of his mind.  He tried to remember her smile, the cookies she made him, how she read him bedtime stories and to forget the shadowy figure that would forever taint his memories.  He didn’t understand.  And where was baby Sammy?  Where was his baby brother?  How could he take care of Sammy if he wasn’t here?  And Mommy always told him to take care of Sammy.  He felt his Daddy’s arm tighten around him, keeping him safe.  He buried his face into his Daddy’s shirt, soaking the material with his tears.  All the while he could feel the heat of the fire, hear the roar of the flames, and smell the odour of the smoke.  And there was that other smell.  The one he didn’t understand.  It would be many years before he recognised the stench of sulphur.


	2. 22 years later

CHAPTER 1-22 Years Later

Dean studied his latest bruise.  At least his Dad hadn’t broken any of his ribs this time and they were just bruised.  Now that he was an adult his Dad didn’t tend to get physical with him as much as he used too but in a way Dean wished he would.  Blows could be defended against, injuries healed but words…  Those wounds never closed.  Words could strip you of everything you ever were and leave you bare for your attacker to see.  Dean stared at the mirror and knew he looked like shit.  His green eyes were dull, his skin pale and the bags under his eyes showed how little he had slept.  Nightmares he couldn’t stop frequently haunted his nights.  Dreams of fire and blood and yellow eyes.  And Dean remembered that once upon a time his Dad would have cared, would have asked him what was wrong.  He remembered the exact date his father had stopped caring and he never found out why.  Dean winced at the memory of his father’s latest rant.  No matter how many times the words were thrown at him they never hurt any less. 

 _Weak, your fault, coward, destroyed, ashamed, pathetic, worthless, stupid, freak._ He had heard them all before but the _“you were never my son, just another bastard”_ well, that was a new one and that one stung.

Logically Dean knew that the death of his mother and his baby brother had not been his fault.  He was just a baby himself.  What was a four year old supposed to do against a powerful supernatural being?  And he knew he was no coward.  He had gone up against creatures alone that other hunters wouldn’t tackle in pairs all in an attempt to make his father proud.  He was a damn good hunter but it was never enough and ever since his Dad had struck that first blow to Dean’s jaw when he was sixteen years old that seed of doubt had been planted.  And like a weed it grew and was slowly suffocating him.  He was good but he wasn’t good _enough_.  He knew it and his Dad knew it.  If he had been good enough his mother and brother would have been avenged by now and they would be able to rest.  If he hadn’t hindered his father so much in his quest they would finally be at peace.  If his Dad didn’t have to spend so much time controlling his son, correcting his mistakes then he would have saved even more lives.  But he knew that it must somehow have been his fault.  His father wouldn’t blame him for no reason.  Dean wondered if this was one of the few times his Dad would apologise but he doubted it.  His father had stopped apologising to him a long time ago but Dean still clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe…  Dean sighed then winced in pain as he pulled on his t-shirt.  His Dad was right.  He was pathetic.  He knew he should leave, he was no use to anybody like this but he had nowhere else to go and no one to go to.

He paused a moment and muttered to himself “please let him be asleep” before he put his mask back in place knowing the cracks were starting to show.  He just couldn’t take anymore abuse tonight.  Dean quietly pushed open the bathroom door allowing the steam from the scolding hot shower he had just taken to escape then inwardly he groaned.

“What the hell took you so long Dean?”

“I’m sorry Sir, I was just” but he never got to finish before he was brutally interrupted.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses” John Winchester snapped at his son who tried not to react.

Dean took a moment to compose himself and take in the details before him.  His Dad’s words were slurred, there was an almost empty bottle of tequila on the floor at his feet and an empty glass in his hand.  Tequila was always the worst.

“It should have been you who died.  It was _supposed_ to have been you.  You know that don’t you?”

Dean winced and answered in a voice almost too quiet to hear “Yeah Dad, I know.” 

Suddenly the drunken hunter spun around, anger twisting his features “Then how can you just stand there?!  It should have been you damn you!”

Dean was forced to jump quickly out of the way as the bottle was thrown at his head.  The bottle crashed against the wall where he had been just seconds before.  Even drunk his father’s aim was dead on.  As it was, it was only his own quick reflexes that saved him from another concussion, and even so the pungent liquid and a few fragments of glass still splashed onto his short hair.  The smell of tequila permeated the room as the fluid ran down the wall to settle amongst the broken glass on the filthy carpet.

Dean dropped his eyes filled with sorrow to the floor before nervously rubbing the back of his neck, a habit he had picked up years ago and couldn’t seem to shake.  His Dad had always said it was a sign of his weakness.  Finally just to break the silence Dean spoke “Come on Dad, you need to sleep.”

“I would have found it by now, if you were good enough, if you could keep up” the hunter mumbled drunkenly.

Dean slowly slid down the wall to sit on the floor as the man that he had once adored slumped over where he was sitting and finally passed out.  Dean ran his hands through his short hair and just sat there, wishing he could remember how to cry.

Eventually he pushed himself to his feet and walked over to his Dad.  He gently placed one of the blankets over his sleeping form before cleaning up the mess on the floor and placing a bottle of painkillers next to his Dad.  He was going to need them when he woke up.  Why wouldn’t his Dad at least just stick to whisky?  Tequila always gave him a bad hangover which just made things worse for Dean.  Dean sighed.  He hadn’t managed to look after Sammy but at least he could do what he could for his Dad and right now they were short of funds.  After all, you do what you have to do to take care of family and his Dad was all he had left.  He pulled on his old, worn out leather jacket, grabbed his wallet and the motel key and gave a sigh of relief as he slipped out the door into the cool night air.

Night was falling over the city when the night dwellers and those that hunted them began to stir.  In the twilight of New Orleans the Dark-Hunter Sam was silently getting ready for his patrol when it struck.  He was arming himself with the tools of his trade when a flash of pain exploded behind his eyes as the vision slammed into him.  He dropped the blade he had been holding and gripped his head.  He groaned as images flashed through his brain too fast for him to process.  The vision tore through him and he swore.  He hadn’t had a vision this painful or this intense in a long time.  He lent against the wall silently panting as his head cleared slightly, trying to put the vision into a coherent order.  He silently cursed Artemis but knew better than to mutter it out loud.  He was the only dark hunter who had visions like this.  He couldn’t call them, they just randomly came to him, usually at highly inconvenient times and places and _always_ accompanied by a hellish migraine.  At least this time he hadn’t been in the middle of a fight with a group of Daimons.  And it was a lot of pain for nothing.  Usually his cryptic visions weren’t helpful in any way and often didn’t make sense until after the event had occurred when he could do nothing to stop it. 

As the pain dulled Sam pushed himself upright again as he rubbed his temples and tried to hold onto the images his mind had shown him and match them up with the other sensations that came with it.  Over the years he had learnt that even the smells in a vision could be important.  In this vision everything was blurry.  There was a solitary man in the dark and he was so sad.  Sad and lonely and tired.  And everything smelt like sulphur and blood.  Flames began to rise behind the man making him glow with an eerie light that didn’t touch the surrounding darkness but still gave the impression of dripping blood.  The blood was everywhere and slowly gathered around the man, coating him in a sticky, red layer.  A secondary blast of pain forced him to stumble again as the images repeated this time accompanied by a strange rustling sound that he couldn’t identify.  Other images were there.  Weapons, a black car, a blond haired woman, but there was nothing he could use to identify the guy.  He searched his memory of the vision trying to pick up any more details but there was nothing.  Just the blurry image of a tall man with short, cropped hair and the smell and the pain.  Sam sighed and steadied himself before he bent down slowly and picked up his blade where it had embedded itself in the floor when he dropped it as the vision had struck and slid it into his arm sheath where it belonged.  He leant against the wall for a moment until the dizziness had passed.  He double checked his weaponry slowly so as not to jar his head too much.  Instead of heading to the door he walked slowly and softly to his front room and over to the table where he kept his art supplies.  Sam grabbed his sketch pad and began to sketch what he had seen.  After several minuets he stopped and cast a critical eye over his work.  It was a rough sketch but it contained enough detail so Sam wouldn’t forget what he had seen.  He added a few small details he had missed then placed it on the table to study later.  Familiarity tugged at him but he dismissed it.  Finally he left the room and stepped into the night to begin his patrol, the cool night air soothing his pain.  He would just have to keep an eye out for the guy because right now he had a job to do.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 2

Dean wandered through the dark streets of New Orleans trying to find a suitable bar.  He had never been to this city before so was simply walking and trying not to think.  Eventually he found himself in the French Quarter and he considered just stopping.  He was so tired.  Both his body and soul were weary but he gave himself a mental shake.  He was a Winchester and a Winchester never quits.  His Dad used to say that.  Had said it to him.  But it had been a long time since he felt like a Winchester and an even longer length of time since his Dad had treated him like one.  Dean tried to push that unhelpful thought aside, straightened his spine and squared his shoulders.  He may not be able to track down the monster that butchered his family but he could get the cash his Dad needed to do it.  And maybe one day he could make his dad proud.

After a while Dean spotted a suitable bar.  A sign on the large brick building declared it to be “Sanctuary- Home of the Howlers”.  There was various motorbikes parked outside the bar and Dean smiled to himself.  He was mostly a car guy but he still knew how to recognise a nice bike when he saw one.   This was his type of bar.

As Dean easily approached the entrance he could hear the sound of heavy metal drifting out onto the street.  Yeah this was definitely his type of place.  At that point he noticed the bouncer in front of him give a jerk and snap his gaze towards him.  The tall, lean, dark haired man glared at him suspiciously before stepping out in front of Dean, bringing him to an abrupt stop.  “This is a Sanctuary, you know the rules.  Don’t spill no blood, won’t be no blood.”

Dean hid his surprise at the greeting behind his trademark cocky smile.  He hadn’t even said a word and he had somehow managed to piss this guy off and from the glint in his eye Dean knew that the guy could handle himself in a fight.  At one point he would have mouthed off at the guy but not now.  He was just too tired. 

“Hey Dude, I’m just here for a game and a few good beers if you have any.  So you gonna let me past?”

The guy on the door continued to scowl and block his way and Dean felt his annoyance rising and his body began to tense.  The guy began to approach him and Dean began to slip into his hunter persona.  He was armed and he would defend himself if he had too.

“Hey, Fang?” someone called and the bouncer turned towards the voice.  As he did so Dean quickly slipped past him and into the club.  He felt himself begin to relax as he let the atmosphere wash over him.  He went up to the bar to get a beer and flirted shamelessly with the tall slim red head behind the counter.   He was starting to feel more like his old self as the server began flirting back.  She brought over his beer and placed it on a beer mat in front of him.  He noticed the name ‘Jenny’ scrawled on it followed by a number. 

“I get off at midnight if you’re still around Handsome”.  She gave him a seductive smile and Dean grinned back as she headed to another customer but knowing he wouldn’t be there.  It had been over three years since he had been with a woman but now wasn’t the time.  It never was and he didn’t want her to get hurt because of him.  He always got people hurt.  He turned away to find a game of pool with some idiots to hustle.

The streets of New Orleans had been relatively quiet tonight and Sam hadn’t really had all that much to do.  Just the odd Daimon that was stupid enough to cross his path.  And Sam was lucky that was the case.  Even though he was a warrior with over two thousand years of fighting experience he had been distracted all night and had the bruises to show for it.  Sam stretched out his arm trying to loosen the muscle where one of the few Daimons he had encountered had managed to stick a knife.  He had been careless and in his life that would get him killed but he couldn’t get that vision out of his mind.  His thoughts had continually strayed back to what he had seen as he tried to decipher it and that had caused him to lose focus and allowed the Daimon to get in a lucky strike.  He had to get his mind back in the game.  At least his patrol was almost done for the night.  He just had one more stop to make and then he could go get some sleep.  His head was still pulsing with hurt as the left over pain continued to throb through his skull.  Sam knew from experience that the only way to stop the pain was for him to sleep.  He just had one more thing to do tonight.  Since Sanctuary had lost its Limani license the Dark Hunters had been keeping an eye on the place and it was his turn to check on it tonight.

Sam passed through the shadows remaining completely unseen to the few people who were about.  He was a silent protector in the night as he moved towards his destination.  Forever in the world but never a part of it.  He could hear Sanctuary well before he could see it.  He headed towards the bar which was a refuge for the outcasts and rejects of the supernatural world.  The club was busy tonight and the crowd was spilling out into the street.  The humans had no idea they were mixing with beings that could easily rip them apart and sometimes Sam wished that he was still that ignorant.  The mix of the sounds and smells of the club that many called home certainly didn’t help his still pounding head.  The smell of alcohol, car fumes, spicy food and body odour mixed with the sound of rock music and people yelling over one another to be heard was almost enough to deafen all his senses but Ash had trained him better than that.  He spotted Fang on the door and slowed his approach giving the wolf enough time to give the alert that a Dark Hunter was approaching before shoving his way to the front of the queue

“Wolf” Sam gave the usual polite Kattagaria greeting.

“Hey man there’s a queue!” someone shouted.  Fang glared at him and the man quickly shut up.  People skills weren’t one of Fang’s talents. 

“Sam”

Sam could tell instantly that Fang was uneasy.  His body was tense and his eyes were constantly on the move.

“Any trouble tonight, Fang?” Sam queried.

“No more than usual Sam.  Your turn to check on us?”  

Sam narrowed his eyes in suspicion.  He was one of the few people who was aware of Fangs other ‘job’ as a Hell Chaser.  A vision had shown him the circumstances that caused the Wolf to accept the role to save his mate.  Once upon a time Sam had understood a love like that.  He had learnt his lesson since then.  Fang was aware that he knew but neither had ever mentioned it.  Maybe now was the time.

“Yeah it is.  So come on Fang, there’s something wrong and I’m guessing its demon related?”

Fang looked thoughtful as if considering what to tell him if anything at all.

“You know if something happens to this place on my watch Ash will have my ass in a blender and the Boss Man is surlier than ever these days.  It definitely would not be pretty.  You’d probably end up cleaning blood off the floor, walls _and_ ceiling.”

Fang smirked at the image of the tall goth kicking the Dark Hunters ass before frowning “I’m not really sure Sam.  Guy came in earlier and he felt…weird”

“What do you mean ‘weird’?”

“If I knew that it wouldn’t be weird.  I dunno, he just twinged my radar that’s all.  He’s not caused any trouble although I’m pretty sure he hustled Eros out of shit load of cash.”

Sam snorted.  He had always thought the Greek was a bit of an idiot but when dealing with Gods or Goddesses he had learnt the hard way to keep his opinions to himself. 

“You can check him out if you want.  I don’t think he’s left yet.  Was playing pool earlier.  Tall guy, leather jacket and he’s got the look.  You know the one.  He’s seen a thing or two.  I’m pretty sure he could cause a lot of trouble if he wanted too.”

“I’ll take a look although if he’s a demon your probably a better judge than me.”

Fang shook his head.  “Nah.  That’s not it.  I’m pretty sure he’s not a demon but he’s…”  the wolf trailed off.

“Weird?” Sam suggested with a grin.

Fang smirked back.  Sam was one of the few Dark Hunters he actually liked.  He had the usual dark-hunter paranoia and didn’t play well with others but he never quite seemed to develop the arrogant attitude that other dark hunters had.  Even though he rarely showed his emotions he was…  Well… Friendlier.  Distant, but friendlier.   “Yeah.  Weird.  There’s something there that’s definitely weird”

Sam nodded to Fang then walked into the club.  As usual when he was here he withdrew his empathic abilities.  They were strong and when he was here he often _felt_ too much.  There was always so much emotion within these walls.  Lust, anger, love, hate.  They were all there.  Good and bad.  And generally with a liberal coating of alcohol which exaggerated things.  Sam glanced around the dark room searching for something out of place but it was all just the usual crowd.  Bikers, goths, students and tourists all mixed together in a dizzying mixture.  The place was packed.  Sam shoved his way through the crowd towards the corner that housed the pool tables, looking for the man that had managed to spook Fang.  And Fang didn’t get spooked easily.  Sam scanned the area looking for something out of place but there was nothing.  After spending an hour in the club scouting the patrons, Sam decided to call it a night.  There was no one here.

Sam headed towards where Fang was still on the door.

“No sign, Fang.”

The wolf just nodded “It’s probably nothing Sam”

Sam could tell he was still spooked “If you need me just give me a call.”

“Sure.  See you around.”

Sam finally left the club, leaving the noise behind to finally get some sleep.  He drifted into the shadows, feeling the approaching dawn.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 3  
Dean had left the club after hustling a nice thick wad of cash. He hoped that would keep his Dad off his case for a while. He was deep in thought when he felt it. You didn’t survive life as a hunter for long without developing good instincts and his were excellent. Someone, or more likely something was watching him. He could feel the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as the feeling got stronger. He glanced subtly around him trying to locate anything that could be the cause of his unease as he moved his hand towards his large hunting knife that he almost always carried. He slowed his pace but kept walking forward so that the creature wouldn’t realise that he knew he was being watched. If you want your predator to stay unaware you don’t stop moving. Dean kept the movement of his hand slow enough that nothing watching would realise he was slowly pulling a lethal weapon. Dean was a Hunter and he knew when he was being hunted.

  
Dean narrowed his eyes as he heard a whisper in the night and he jerked around towards the voice but could see nothing other than the dark night around him. Then one of the shadows moved.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t little Dean Winchester all grown up.”

There was something wrong with that voice. It was low and inhuman yet strangely seductive. Dean swiftly pulled his blade the rest of the way, ready to defend himself. He knew this thing wasn’t human.

“Who the Hell are you?” Dean barked out.

Slowly a woman drifted out of the shadows. She was tall and slender and a tight red dress clung to her body. Long, dark hair fell about her shoulders in gentle waves and the high stilettos served to enhance her long toned legs. She moved her body sensuously in a way that would normally have had Dean drooling but the coldness in her eyes made him shiver and he tried to hide the chill that ran down his spine.

“I’m just an old friend coming to visit.” She smiled at him but Dean could see the cruelty in her expression. This was no friend.

“Sure you are.” He said calmly as she moved ever closer.

“You mean my dear friend John never mentioned me? I’m hurt” she sneered with amusement in her voice, all the while moving seductively towards him.  
Dean clenched his jaw before speaking. He wanted to find out who this stranger was and how she knew his name as well as his fathers.

“Can’t say that he ever did. You couldn’t have made that much of an impression on him.”

“Oh I definitely left an impression all right” she sneered at him as she slinked forward “A _life_ changing one.”

His entire body tightened as he waited patiently for the right moment and it came. As soon as she was close enough he spun her around, raised his blade and quickly had it pressed against her throat.

“Now who are you, Bitch?” he snarled.

She smiled again and let out a tinkling laugh, blood trickling down her skin she deliberately pushed against the knife with her bare neck

“That’s no way to treat a lady, Winchester. So where is big Daddy Winchester? Can’t think much of little baby Dean-o if he’s let him out all by himself”

“Screw you, Bitch.” Dean snarled at the old name his Dad used to call him. A name he hadn’t used in years.

“Oh I didn’t hit a nerve there did I? And haven’t I already told you that’s no way to treat a lady, Little Puppy?” and she gave a flick of her hand and Dean was flung against a wall. He felt the breath explode from his chest in an agonising blast and his vision clouded slightly as his head struck the brick behind him. He felt the knife drop from his hand and would have cursed himself if his brain hadn’t been full of fuzz. Rule of hunting 101: Don’t drop your weapon. His Dad had trained him better.

“You know Winchester we could have done this civilly.” She approached him slowly as Dean felt himself sliding up the wall, his brain still fuzzy. His mind fought through the clouds and flashed back to the image of his mother on the ceiling in agony with blood streaming from her stomach and flames surrounding her body as she burnt. He continued to struggle against the invisible grip but he was helpless. He was as helpless now as he had been back then.

“I would have asked you my questions then depending on your answers would let you go.” She tightened the mental grip she had on his throat as Dean continued to try to fight back.  As the woman got closer he managed to choke out a single word. One his Dad had taught him before he stopped caring, telling him he’d know when to use it.

“Christo”

The woman’s eyes instantly turned black. A deep oily black that seemed to suck in the light. She walked up to the pinned hunter and snarled in his face as she grabbed his jaw in a powerful hand, all pretence of humour gone.

“That’s just rude you little shit. What makes you so special to him? I could squash you like a fly” she hissed as she slammed him against the side of a skip and he groaned in pain as his felt a shoulder pop.

“Go ahead Bitch, whatever you’ve got I’ve had worse.” Dean snarled back, the adrenaline keeping him conscious.

“Oh little boy, you’ve no idea what I could do to you.”

Dean’s head snapped to the side as she slapped him, her claw like nails drawing blood as they ripped across his face.

“I think I’ll just kill you instead but I’m definitely going to have some fun with you first, Little Puppy. I will make Him see entirely how inferior you are.”

The woman tossed Dean to the ground with punishing force which caused his ankle to twist painfully and his head once again cracked against the soaked ground and he felt blood begin to mix with the damp. She slammed her foot down on his chest and he felt her heel stab into an old injury and he yelled in pain.  
Dean grabbed her ankle and tried to push it off of him. Finally he felt his body surrender and go limp as the last slivers of consciousness slipped from his mind as he lost the battle. His last thought was I failed him again. Before he completely surrendered to unconsciousness he thought he heard another voice in the dark.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

Then he was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 4  
Sam was gratefully heading home. He knew sleep wouldn’t completely get rid of his headache, not even the dream hunters could do that but it would at least reduce the pain. And he wanted to study his sketch again. That feeling of familiarity was still niggling at him. Suddenly he heard a cry of pain. He turned around trying to ignore the approaching dawn and locate the noise which echoed through the still dark alleyways. 

“Go ahead Bitch, whatever you’ve got I’ve had worse.”

The voice sounded cocky and confident but Sam could detect the underlying fear.

Sam located the voices and headed towards the dark, hidden corner which was covered in filth and grime, pulling a knife as he did so.

“Oh little boy, you’ve no idea what I could do to you” a female voice said coldly.

Sam heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh along with a grunt of pain. That didn’t sound good.

“I think I’ll just kill you now but I’m definitely going to have some fun with you first, little Puppy.”

Sam rounded the corner and took in the situation at one swift glance. A barley conscious man was lying in a heap on the ground among the litter. Blood was pouring from a head wound and dripped from slash marks on his face. His wrist was twisted at an unnatural angle beneath him and one eye was beginning to swell. And those were only the injuries that he could see. Sam had little doubt there were more hidden beneath his clothes.

A tall woman was standing over him with an expression of morbid glee stretched over her face. But what caught his attention most was the fact that her aura didn’t seem to match her body. While her body was a young woman her aura was twisted, ancient and corrupt.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

The woman turned quickly to face him and Sam caught a glimpse of depthless, black eyes.

“What’s this? Another little toy for me to play with?” The woman giggled and Sam arched his brow.

“Not quite.” 

Sam stalked closer towards the pair. 

She grinned at Sam. “Well lookie here. The big bad human wants to play?” She grinned again as she ran her eyes over Sam’s body. “I do like them big. Mean’s they make more of a bang when they fall and it’s so much fun making the big ones scream.” She licked her lips. “We could have a lot of fun.”

She kicked the unconscious man in the ribs and Sam winced internally as he heard a crack but his face remained blank and cold.

“I’ll finish with you in a moment Winchester” she purred, her eyes never leaving Sam, “I’ve got someone else to kill first.”

She turned back towards Sam and threw out an arm sending him sideways. The telekinetic blast surprised him and caught him off guard, tossing him to the side towards the same skip that Dean had hit earlier. He slammed into it with a force so great he bounced off it again. He managed to catch himself on a chain link fence which was all that stopped him from being slammed into a wall and turned back to her. 

“Did nobody ever warn you about playing with strangers?”

The woman giggled again and fired another blast at him. But this time he was ready for it. He erected a mental barrier around himself to block the blow but when the force struck him he still slid sideways. His opponent gave a sly smile.

“So you know how to play the game? This is going to be fun”

“Just so you know your little psychic ray gun doesn’t work on me. Now why are you in my city?” 

She held Sam’s gaze and he spotted a flicker of unease as she looked into his dark eyes. Sam suspected she had just realised he wasn’t quite human. He tried to test her emotions but was forced to withdraw his abilities. The sheer twisted hatred she was exuding froze him. He hadn’t felt anything like that since... He quickly shut that thought down. 

“Can’t have you interrupting my game now can I Big Boy? So be a good little dark hunter and run along.”

Sam hid his jolt of surprise. How could this being know how to recognise a Dark Hunter when he, one of the oldest, didn’t know what she was? 

“I don’t think so” And with that Sam threw a large silver knife towards her, quickly followed by a second, smaller knife. The blade embedded itself deep in her shoulder and the force of the blade hitting flesh was enough to cause the woman to spin around as blood spurted from what should have been a debilitating wound. Sam pounced forward, slamming her against the other side of the alley before jamming his forearm against her throat.

“You still didn’t answer my question.”

The woman let out a high pitched shriek before regaining her composure and sneering at Sam “So you like it rough do ya’ big boy?”

“Jesus, don’t you ever stop talking?” said Sam.

“Why would I when it gives me so much fun? He’s dead you know” she said nodding at Dean. “Just like all the other poor little humans that you failed to protect” she sniggered vindictively before adding “another death on you. More blood on your hands.”

Sam’s temper fired at the comment as the image of every single person he had failed to protect flashed to mind. He tried to force it back but for some reason his tightly controlled temper flared. Now it was Sam’s turn to snarl and he seemed to pull a long, glistening sword from nowhere. The woman broke out of his hold and clawed his face with one hand while the other pulled Sam’s hunting knife from her shoulder, blood dripping from the metal. She brought the knife to her mouth and slowly licked her own blood from the blade, seeming to relish the taste.

“Fresh human blood. Every dark hunter should try it” she grinned with a blood stained mouth as she held the knife out towards him. “Want a taste? The way it runs down your throat is incredible!” Red sparkled on her white teeth. “But maybe you already know that.”

Sam hid his disgust before he stepped forward and put all his considerable strength and weight into his arm as he punched her hard on her injured shoulder, knocking her balance off and eliciting another yelp of pain as his second knife sunk in even deeper, scraping bone. Then Sam removed her head from her neck with a single, swift stroke of his deadly sword. As his blade began to slice through the jugular black smoke came streaming out of the woman’s now lifeless but still blood stained mouth and her body and head dropped separately to the ground. 

“What the Hell?” Sam gaped as the smoke disappeared into the sky. 

Given how long Sam had been alive it wasn’t often that he was surprised or that he saw something he had never seen before but that was a first. He cleared his mind of that mystery for the moment before checking on the unconscious man on the ground. His pulse was slow but steady and he had definitely taken a beating. Sam felt a tingle on his skin as the sun started to peak over the horizon. He couldn’t leave him there. He could call an ambulance but the guy would still be left alone and from what he had just seen he was a target.

“Looks like you’re coming with me, Kid.”

He bent over to lift him and it was at that point he caught a better look at the guy’s face. Sam froze in surprise. He took in the tall, broad frame, the short spiky hair and the aura of hurt that surrounded him. He was just a kid, barely older than a teenager. It was the kid from his vision. Sam mentally changed his view and almost dropped him again. His soul was wrong.

“I don’t have time for this right now” Sam muttered. He picked up the kid again who, given his size, was surprisingly light. He glanced at the lightening sky. It was going to be close and Sam really didn’t want to be burnt to death a second time. 

“Shit” he muttered to himself. Luckily he was almost at his car. When he got there he quickly deposited the man in the passenger seat before jumping in himself, grateful for the tinted windows. He floored the accelerator and broke a lot of driving laws while hoping he didn’t get pulled over. Finally he approached the edge of the city where the isolated house that was his home was located. He stopped as close to his front door as he could, all the while being thankful for the overhanging trees which were currently the only thing saving him from a second fiery death. He grabbed the kid unceremoniously and made it to his door just as the skin on the back of his neck started to burn. Sam sighed in relief as he slammed his door shut on the dreaded sunlight as he slapped one hand at the back of his neck where he could already feel a burn mark forming but it wasn't too bad. No damage done that a quick sleep wouldn’t fix.

Sam paused a moment then carried the kid over to his guest room and placed him gently down on the large bed. He shifted his vision again to confirm what he had seen. It was still there. The sense of wrong wrapped into the man’s aura. Sam scowled. He had never seen anything like it. It was nowhere near as wrong as the thing he had just beheaded. Just a tiny spark of wrong that clung to the young man’s veins like a leech, trying to dig its way into his soul. Sam thought back to what Fang had said that night. 

“So that’s what Fang picked up on earlier” he muttered to himself. He blinked, returning his vision to normal. The guy had taken quite a beating and Sam wanted to get his injuries seen too before he slept.

He looked the kid over registering the superficial injuries as well as the most serious ones before disarming him and laying his weapons to the side. The kid had a gun tucked into his jeans and a large ornate ancient looking knife tucked inside his leather jacket that Sam carefully pulled off. He set the knife to one side to study later then found another blade strapped to his ankle. His shirt was so badly soaked in blood that Sam had to cut it off. There was a large gash in his chest that looked like it had gotten infected and a large bruise on his ribs that had obviously been there before Sam had found him. They were obviously broken, either from the attack earlier or from whatever caused that bruise. Sam also noticed the kid was covered in scars and Sam recognised them for what they were. He was a human hunter.

Oh shit.

Sam fetched the first aid kit that had been left behind when the previous occupants had moved away, glad he had trusted his instinct to keep the thing even though he had no need of it.

Sam placed an ice pack on his rapidly swelling eye before moving on and added another to his wrist and ankle and then began to tend his more serious injuries. 

“Sorry kid, this is going to hurt” he muttered to the unconscious man. At that he wrenched Dean’s arm, pushing his shoulder back into place before securing it in a sling. Then he studied the gash on his chest. It looked several days old and was hot to the touch and puffy. Blood and puss was oozing from the wound and Sam could see the remains of poorly done stitches. It was obvious he’d done it himself and made a mess of it. Although putting stitches in your own chest probably wasn’t a very easy thing to do.

“Jesus, this should have been done days ago kid.” 

The unconscious man groaned as if in reply but may have been pain as Sam gently began to clean and bandage the wound before wrapping his ribs as best he could and strapping the damaged wrist and sprained ankle. Finally, after all his wounds had been treated, Sam sighed and ran his hands through his hair as he considered his options. He had a human with a tainted aura unconscious in his guest room. He could tell that his soul had been battered by a hard life, most Hunters had, but it shouldn’t have been enough to cause that tiny spark of unnatural darkness pulsing inside him. He shifted his vision again. It was definitely wrong and didn’t seem to match his aura but it was still a part of him, like a slightly misshaped jigsaw piece that had been forced into place. He checked on the human again and decided he would probably be asleep for a few hours yet. In the end Sam knew he had a couple of options. First he could patch him up and send him on his way. He discarded that idea straight away, he could speak to Fang again but decided against that as well. If the Hell Chasers got involved that could just screw the situation up even more. Or he could speak to Acheron. Sam scowled at that idea. He knew he should call Ash but something in his gut was telling him not to get the first Dark Hunter involved. And he always trusted his gut. But he needed to find out something about the kid. He obviously wasn’t just a civilian and he knew the signs of a lifetime of hunting. Most hunters were good people but there was always a few that became bitter and jaded by the hunting lifestyle and sometimes those individuals became twisted. They lost sight of what they were fighting for and found themselves enjoying the hunt a little too much. Sometimes they became worse than the things they hunted, willing to sacrifice the victims in order to kill the monster. It became more about the killing than the saving. One in particular came to mind. Gordon Walker was a thoroughly nasty piece of work before he was finally taken down by a vamp. The Dark Hunters weren’t supposed to mingle with the human hunters but he knew someone who did. The name of an old friend, and one of the few people he trusted, sprung to mind. He hadn’t spoken to him in years but he still managed to grab his phone and dial the number from memory. After a long time of simply letting the phone ring somebody eventually picked up and a gruff voice spoke. Sam had forgotten how early it was for the day dwellers.

“Singer Salvage and this better be bloody important.”

“Hey Bobby.”

“Sam? That you boy?”

Sam smiled. He always did when he spoke to the ex-squire. Even though he was about two thousand years older than him he always called Sam Boy or Kid or Son or if he had just done something especially reckless Eejitt and Sam had given up trying to correct him. Even though he was one of the oldest Dark-Hunters he looked like one of the youngest being only 22 when he died. “Yeah it’s me Bobby.”

“Where the Hell you been?”

“Relocated. I’m in New Orleans now.”

The gruff old squire snorted. “Never did like that place. Why there?”

Sam paused for a second. He wasn’t supposed to be talking to the ex-squire at all let alone discussing dark-hunter business. But this was Bobby.

“Well what with Kyrian, Talon and now Valerius out they were a bit short staffed here.”

“Wait, when you say Valerius is out do you mean…” Bobby let the question hang in the air.

Sam gave a quiet laugh. “He’s not a shade. He went and got married. Remember Tabitha Deveraux?”

“Tabby and Valerius?” Bobby sounded completely incredulous “didn’t see that one coming”

“Don’t think he did either. From what I’ve heard the first time they met she put a knife through his back. Almost killed him. Well as close as she could without cutting off his head” 

Bobby gave a snort, then spoke again “Not that I’m not happy to hear from you Sam, been awfully quiet round here, but I’m guessing this isn’t a social call since it is 6 o’clock in the bloody morning”

Sam sighed. “Your right Bobby. I’ve got a Hunter here I’m looking for some info on.”

There was silence at the other end of the line. “Is there any reason that you’re coming to me with this instead of another Dark-hunter? Or even a squire? I’ve been out a long time now Boy” Bobby said suspiciously.

“I’m not talking about a Dark Hunter here Bobby, I’m talking about a Hunter.”

There was a pause. “How’d you get involved with a Hunter?” Bobby was as protective of the Hunters he worked with now as he had been of the Dark Hunters when he was squire.

“It’s a long story Bobby and what you don’t know you can’t tell. The guy’s name might be Winchester but that could be an alias”

“Winchester. Well that’s not a name I’ve heard for a while.”

“So you do know him?” Sam queried.

“Look, Sam, you know I like you but unless you tell me why you’re asking about him I’m going to respect his privacy the same way I would yours” 

Sam groaned. Bobby Singer could be a stubborn bastard when he wanted to be and getting any information that he didn’t want to give was going to be like pulling teeth. And that was one of the reasons he trusted him.

“I could just ask Ash.”

“You could but if you’ve came to me first I’m guessing that either you can’t reach him or you don’t want to and I’m guessing it’s that you don’t want too.”

Sam gave in. “Fine, I’ll give you the basics. Good enough?”

Sam heard a grunt over the phone that Sam took to be an agreement.

“I currently have a hunter by the name of Winchester unconscious in my house after I had a vision about him earlier. At least I think it was about him. It wasn’t very clear. He was getting his ass handed to him by” Sam paused, he wasn’t sure what it had been, “demon or spirit or creature who seemed to know him personally. That’s how I got his name. Not often a demon will screw around with a human unless they’re dinner. Now what can you tell me?”

“What do you mean a demon or spirit?”

“To be honest Bobby I’m not really sure what it was.”

“Right. Wan’na give me a description?”

“She looked human mostly but had black eyes. Not dark but completely pitch black. Like oil, actually. She was telekinetic and when I cut off her head she disappeared into a cloud of black smoke and left her body behind.”

“How strong a telekinetic?”

“Pretty strong. She managed to toss me about a bit.” 

“Huh. I’ll look into it. So, back to this hunter. Is it Winchester Senior or Junior you have?”

“Well he looks like mid-twenties so I’m guessing that it’s Junior”

“That’ll be Dean then. The kid okay?” 

“Yeah. A bit worse for wear but he’ll be fine. He’s gonna have a hell of a sore head when he wakes up.”

“Good. Not seen him for a good few years after I got into a bust up with his old man, John. John’s wife, Deans’ mom, was killed when Dean was just a kid. That’s what got John into hunting and he dragged his four year old son into the life with him. I don’t know if he ever even found out what it was let alone the thing itself.”

Sam glared at the wall. How could any father drag his son into hunting at such a young age? Sam didn’t like him already. He did understand the need for revenge of course. That was how he ended up a soulless immortal warrior for the human race after all but he never would have placed his need for vengeance above the safety of any child, especially one so young whose mother had just died.

“John trained him as a hunter, moving from place to place. Never once had a permanent address as far as I know. Dropped out of school with a GED. Been hunting since he was old enough to shoot a gun and he’s one of the best. He’s smart even if his old man never gave him credit for that, and he’s fast and he’s adaptable. Now if it is Dean you’ve got there then John will be about somewhere as well. He’s an ornery bastard and tends to rub folk the wrong way. Good hunter but not the nicest of men and in my opinion a pretty crappy father. He raised Dean to be a warrior, not a kid. Tried to keep an eye on them both but he and John are damn good at covering their tracks. John was a marine and he taught Dean everything he knew. If they don’t want to be found they won’t be. They were really close at one point but things were a bit strained last time I saw them. Don’t know why. Dean must have been ‘bout seventeen or eighteen at the time. He’ll be twenty six now I think. Don’t know what this mystery monster of yours would want with Dean though other than the usual and you wouldn’t be going behind Ash’s back if it was just the usual”.

Sam groaned internally. Sometimes Bobby was too smart for his own good and Sam knew what his old friend was asking.

“There’s more to this than just some big bad messing about with a hunter, Bobby.”

“You sure Sam?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I can feel it.”

Bobby knew to trust Sam’s gut feelings. Sam’s gut had saved many lives in the past. He paused as if thinking about what he was going to say next. 

“Now John aint going to win any father of the year awards but Dean? He’s a good kid, Sam.”

“One more question.” Sam paused.

“Well?”

“Is he human? I mean completely?”

“Of course he is!” Bobby snapped protectively. “What the Hell else would he be? What aint you telling me?” 

“Like I said, what you don’t know you can’t tell. Just trust me on this for now and I’ll fill you in when I can.”

“You’d better” Bobby growled.

“Thanks Bobby.” 

“Once you’ve got him out of whatever mess he’s got himself into tell him to give me a call.”

Sam could hear the affection in his tone of the ex-squire. It wasn’t often Bobby let himself get that fond of someone and that made him all the more determined to help the kid out.

”And watch out for John. He’s very black and white about the whole supernatural thing and he’d be quite happy to take a machete to your neck.”

“Will do.”

“Take care of yourself Sam.”

Sam hung up the phone thoughtfully as he struggled to think around the ache in his skull. Sam had looked through Dean’s jacket for any clues it could give him. All he found was and old tattered wallet which contained a large number of wrinkled notes and Sam remembered Fang mentioning him hustling Eros at pool. The only other thing in there was an old photo of Dean and an older man who he guessed was his Dad. Dean looked to be in his early teens and the older man had an arm slung over his shoulder as they lent against the hood of a black, classic car in the summer sun. They both had big smiles and looked happy to be in one another’s company. Maybe it had just been a teenage tantrum. Dean also had a motel key. The Reynolds Motel, room number 66. Sam knew where the motel was and knew it was a dump. Sam placed the items with his weapons in the drawer of the table next to the bed where they would be easy for Dean to reach. In the end he decided he could do nothing else until the human woke up and try and get some answers then without letting the Hunter know he wasn’t human. In the meantime he had to get some sleep. His head was still throbbing from his earlier vision and the sun had completely risen. He called the two wolves that lived with him. Shadow and Winter would watch Dean for him and alert him if he stirred. And Sam finally got to strip off his weapons and collapse into bed.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 5

Dean groaned as he stirred. His entire body ached and his stomach was churning. He tried to peer through the murky depth of his memory while he did a self-analysis. Definite head injury, broken ribs, left wrist sprained, right wrist severely bruised and a dislocated shoulder as well as various other cuts and bruises. He could feel the sting of anti-sceptic, several bandages, one arm strapped up and his other arm was in a sling in what felt like a professional manner. He opened his eyes slowly, keeping his sore body as still as possible. He was in a darkened room in a large double bed. _Not a hospital_ was his first thought. No hospitals had beds that comfortable with warm, soft blankets and soft pillows supporting his damaged arm. And it was quiet. No beeping machines, whispering nurses, worried families or clattering equipment. Then a second thought came to him causing Dean to jerk upright which made him groan in pain as he added a concussion to his list. If he wasn’t in a hospital where was he and who had tended his injuries? For a brief moment he thought of his Dad. He quickly pushed that thought away. John Winchester hadn’t tended his son’s injuries in years. Nobody had.

Dean suddenly froze as he heard a loud animalistic growl disrupt the quiet. That menacing sound cleared Dean’s mind quicker than anything else could. His hand flew to grab his deadly hunting knife only to discover it wasn’t there. He went for his backup before realising he had been completely disarmed. He shoved himself back towards the headboard and groaned again as his entire skull seemed to throb. Adrenaline surged through his body as he took in the two snarling animals surrounding him. Two giant wolves had their lips pulled back, baring glistening, white fangs. Their ears were pressed flat against their heads and fur bristled making them seem even larger. As far as Dean could tell, these wolves were completely normal but for some reason they unnerved him more than most supernatural creatures he had faced. Maybe it was because he was totally unarmed or maybe it was the intelligence in their eyes.

Dean extended his arm slowly, trying to appear non-threatening. “Easy there Fido” he spoke, his voice gravelly with thirst. Dean quickly pulled his hand back again as the snarling increased and the silver wolf pounced forward to snap viciously at his hand before retreating slightly. He tried again getting the same result. Dean didn’t know what to do. He was completely defenceless and the two animals that looked ready and willing to tear out his throat were blocking the only exit and yet they didn’t seem to want to get any closer to him.

Suddenly the door slammed open and an extremely tall man burst into the room. That was all Dean had time to register before he snapped at the animals.

“Shadow, Winter, back off.”

They didn’t move. The stranger lowered his voice, “Now”. Still no reaction. He spoke again, this time he gentled his tone. “He won’t hurt either of you.”

“No offence Dude I’m more worried about them hurting me” Dean croaked out, eyeing the man suspiciously as the animals backed up towards him, gradually calming, seeming to take comfort from his presence. The man stepped forward slowly placing a hand on both the wolves head, hiding his surprise. His friends had never reacted to anybody so aggressively. Sam considered the mark he carried. Maybe the animals had sensed that too.

“Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you either. They just don’t like strangers in their territory, that’s all”

“If you say so” Dean croaked out warily watching the wolves that were still bristling next to the stranger’s side.

Sam stepped forward slowly, obviously picking up on Deans voice. “There’s water next to you”

He moved forward again to pass the bottle to Dean that was just out of his reach and Dean finally got a better look at the man in the dim light. The guy was ridiculously tall and broad enough to match his tall frame and was a solid wall of pure muscle. Longish brown hair fell into his dark eyes. Dean caught a brief flash of some sort of tattoo on the back of his neck when he turned to lift the bottle. He seemed a lot younger up close than he had first looked to Dean’s panicked mind and he guessed early twenties, just a kid.

“How you feeling?”

Dean ignored the question and asked one of his own “Who are you and where am I?”

Sam spoke calmly to him, not reacting to Dean's suspicious tone. “My name’s Sam. You’re at my house. I found you unconscious in the street beat to hell. How are you feeling?”

Dean was still suspicious. There was something about the kid’s voice that was so familiar… A memory tugged at him slightly before slipping away. Who took a complete stranger they found unconscious on the street home with them? Then again Sam did give the impression he knew how to protect himself. And he did have two bloody great big wolves guarding him.

“I’m fine” he snapped and Sam smirked at the obvious lie.

“Okay.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“Your wounds needed looked at and my place was closer than the hospital” Sam waited, hoping that Dean didn’t know the area or he would know that was a lie. He hadn’t sounded like a local so Sam waited and hoped. He couldn’t exactly tell him that he had to get home to avoid bursting into flame.

“You patched me up?” Sam nodded.

“You looked like you needed it and you were getting blood all over my sheets. You had a bit of a fever from that cut. I cleaned it out and stitched it. So how are you really feeling?”

“Look, who the Hell are you?”

Sam held his hands up in surrender

“Hey dude, relax. It’s not as if I kidnapped you’re ass or anything. You needed to get patched up and since I’m a paramedic I could do it. Next time I’ll just leave your ass in the street to get mugged.”

Dean felt himself relax slightly at Sam’s speech and almost smiled at the mildly irritated look on the younger man’s face. That bit of irritation was the first hint of emotion Dean had seen on his face.

“Name’s Dean. How long was I out?”

“Well it was about five am when I found you and it’s about 9 now. I’ll actually have to leave for work soon.

Dean gaped. “Nine? As in PM?”

“Yeah, you had a pretty high fever for a while but it didn’t last long. That’s why you slept so long. Probably caused by that lovely festering wound you had. I didn’t know if there was anyone you’d want to call.”

“There’s just my Dad.”

“Want me to call him for you?” Sam’s voice had turned completely emotionless again, betraying no hint of what he was thinking to Dean. Dean didn’t know that Sam already disapproved of his father after hearing Dean's story from Bobby. Time seemed to freeze for Dean. He knew he should, really should call his Dad. Then he considered how much of a hindrance he was to him. How it was his fault his mother and brother had yet to be avenged. How useless he was. How his Dad had hated him for years. And he realised he was actually scared of the man who had once been his hero. How his Dad just didn’t care.

“No.” he snapped loudly at Sam who just arched his eyebrow and Dean closed his eyes briefly in relief when Sam didn’t ask for an explanation at his reaction.

Sam hid his surprise at Dean’s reaction and the spike of pain at his question behind his usual stoic expression. It would take more than just a teenage mood swing to cause that reaction. He wished he could check Dean’s aura at that point but knew he couldn’t. Dean was a hunter so there would be no way to explain away Sam’s eyes turning from almost black to icy blue and glowing as he used that particular ‘gift’. And it wasn’t something he liked using. Sam always felt that it was like reading someone’s diary. Not just an invasion of privacy but an invasion of your very being. But that mark on Dean’s soul was making him wary and Sam couldn’t decide if it was the kid himself or his own hard won paranoia that was causing it. He’d keep his distance and stick with regular questions for now.

“So do you remember anything about what happened? You were pretty beat up.” Dean’s suspicion instantly flared again, eyes narrowing.

“Why do you want to know? You gonna call the cops?”

Sam just shrugged. “Nah. You look like the kind of guy who would like to avoid police involvement.”

“Why do you say that?”

Sam snorted. “I can tell an illegal weapon when I see one and I know if I was carrying the weapons you were I wouldn’t want the police poking around. And I’m guessing they’re not licensed. They’re in the drawer next to you by the way. And you’ve got the look of a survivor about you. A vetran. Marine I’m guessing?”

Dean felt his suspicions dim slightly.

“Yeah” he lied. He could easily fake being a marine. He was still cautious but somehow this kid’s calm manner and lack of judgements were soothing. And if Sam meant him harm he wouldn’t have given him back his weapons. And he couldn’t help thinking that Sam must be round about the same age as Sammy would have been if he had lived. “I got sloppy and someone managed to get the drop on me. It won’t happen again” he added sharply.

“It happens.”

“Not to me” Dean muttered more to himself than Sam. Because it didn’t happen to Dean. Somehow. He had never thought about it until now. But now Dean was thinking about it. About what the woman who had pinned him had said. Pinned him telepathically with no visible effort. Special to whom? And he didn’t even know what she was or what she was talking about. What type of creature had black eyes and had telekinetic powers strong enough to toss him around like tennis ball? He wasn’t exactly a small guy. And how did she know his Dad? And what the Hell did she mean by ‘old friend’?

“Look I need to head out soon. You still look like shit so why don’t you hang about till you feel better?” Sam said reluctantly. He didn’t want to leave Dean alone. He didn’t need any powers to see the loneliness Dean was carrying with him. Dean considered his options. If he stayed here, in this comfortable bed and he was on some sort of supernatural hit list he would be putting Sam in danger but if he went back to his Dad he would put him in danger. But nobody knew Dean was here and if Sam wasn’t going to be in anyway… But he had to find out about this women and how she knew them. Eventually Dean’s mind was decided for him when the room started to spin. He was in no state to go anywhere.

“And don’t worry about Shadow and Winter, they know your scent now.”

“Thanks man” he slurred and Sam smiled softly as Dean passed out again.

Sam relaxed slightly when he realised Dean wouldn’t have to be alone. “Shadow, Winter” the wolves that had been with him for years turned their large heads towards him. “Watch over him for me will you?”


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 6  
Sam slipped down his hallway to get geared up for the nights’ work still wondering what to do about Dean. He still needed more information cause at the minuet he had nothing. However there was nothing he could do about it right now. But one thing he had taken note of was the room number and name of the motel. He would do his rounds and stop by the motel. Maybe that would yield some answers.

Sam rushed through his route for that night. The streets were quiet of any daimon activity, even quieter than the night before. The entire city felt subdued and even the partying tourists seemed to avoid lingering on the streets. Some humans did still follow their subconscious instincts that warned of trouble even if they weren’t aware they were doing it. He even took a detour out to Xedrix’s club to check on it and again there was nothing. Not one single spark of trouble. Not even a bar fight. But then again, if there had been, the Charonte probably wouldn’t have told him unless ordered to by Ash. They didn’t like others knowing their business. 

It was just too calm and it was making Sam twitchy. The quiet before the storm. And Sam was sure a storm was come and that the kid unconscious in his spare room would be right in the middle of it. 

Sam had just finished his route when out of the calm a scared voice echoed.

“Ex-excuse me, mister.”

Sam automatically went for one of his many knives as the voice spoke from behind him. Sam trusted no one at his back. When he faced the voice a young girl was standing there and Sam refrained from pulling his weapon just in time. He realised just how distracted he must have been for the girl to get that close to him without him noticing. The girl looked about nine years old with long blond hair and had large blue eyes which widened as she let out a squeal of fright and jumped back.

Sam tried to soften his entire body as he let his weapon slide back into place but his hulking form continued to tower over her. He had never been good with children. “Hey, there kid”. Sam had gentled his tone to try not to startle her further but stayed alert. What the hell was such a young girl doing out alone in this area this late at night? This was a dangerous part of the city for adults to be caught unawares let alone a young child.

“What are you doing out here?”

The girl sniffled as tears filled her eyes. “I’m lost. I just wanted to play with the puppy but he ran away and now I can’t find my way home”  
Sam pushed down his rising suspicion that something about this situation wasn’t right. He knew better than to trust what was on the surface. He had learned painfully that things are not always what they seem.

“It’s okay kid I’ll help you get home. What’s your name?”

She sniffled again as her eyes continued to water then threw herself at Sam and hugged his legs. 

“It’s Meg.”

“Okay Meg. Where are you staying?” He patted her shoulder uneasily. He had no idea how to deal with a child and his gut was telling him something here was off. That this child was off.

“I’m staying with my parents.” The girl mumbled into his legs.

Sam peeled her off of him carefully, wanting to get her away from him but not wanting to hurt her.

“And where are they?”

“My mommy and daddy are really good people but they wouldn’t get me a puppy. Heaven or Hell, I’m not sure which. Probably Hell cause they wouldn’t get me a puppy. So I killed them”. And this time the girl grinned.

Sam felt his eyes glow i responce as he checked the aura of the little girl in the pretty pink dress and it was wrong. Dark and twisted and oh so wrong. Exactly the same as the creature he had encountered earlier. Sam pushed her away roughly.

Sam watched as the sparkling blue eyes that should have been shining with innocence were warped into the same oily black he had seen earlier. Her face morphed into an expression that was truly horrific on the face of a child.

“What’s the matter Sammy? Don’t recognise me?” The girl sighed sadly then almost pouted. “I did much prefer my other meat suit but it’s not exactly fit for purpose anymore, now is it?”  
Meg seemed to examine his face. “Do you not know?”

Sam didn’t speak as she grinned maliciously. “She felt everything you know. I made sure she felt it. She was screaming inside as you cut off her head. Screaming for help. For your help. And you killed her. You murdered a poor, defenceless, paediatric nurse and now her baby boy is an orphan. He’s only two and he’s all alone. Now where have you stashed my Puppy, Big Boy?”

Sam considered the child full of corruption, the words were so familiar. This was the same creature that had grabbed Dean before. Possession. Sam shuddered as he realised he had beheaded an innocent woman. Sam didn’t freeze up, he did what he had done for centuries. He forced that thought to the back of his mind and locked it away with the rest of his regrets to deal with later. He focused again on Meg. She wanted Dean for something other than to kill him. “Why do you want him so badly?”

“I want to play with his intestines”

Sam snorted. “Maybe you do, but you won’t.”

She smirked “And why wouldn’t I?”

“Because whoever is holding your leash won’t let you.” 

Meg let out a shriek of rage and with a flick of her arm sent him into the windscreen of a car. He let out a groan as he felt a shard of glass stab into his back before landing lightly on his feet and let out a smirk of his own. His last comment had been a guess but by her actions Meg had confirmed it. She had the opportunity to kill Dean before and she hadn’t taken it. There was something else controlling her.

“So whose pet are you?” Sam asked as his eyes glowed again as he tried to search for any remaining piece of the young girls aura. There’s was nothing. Whoever this poor child had been, Meg had destroyed her. 

Meg narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Sam’s glowing eyes before Sam felt an invisible hand tightening around his neck as he was flung against a wall. The force at his throat  
started to slide him upwards. Sam pretended to fight against the hold she had on him, hoping she would let slip some more information. 

“I’m nobodies pet” she snarled then smirked. “Unlike you. Your just another one of Artemis’s little toys just like all her other slaves. And once I’ve found my puppy I’m going to destroy you for getting in my way!” She tossed Sam against the opposite wall.  
Sam groaned at the blow before speaking again.

“Okay. Just tell me why he’s so important to you? After all, he’s just another human.”  
This time she gave a cold smile which Sam found to be a lot more threatening than her other expressions had been. “He’s not just another human you fool. He’s the one.” Sam felt the glass that was still embedded in his back dig in deeper as she slammed him again as she cut off Sam’s air supply with a telekinetic fist. Luckily for him he didn’t need to breath but it still hurt like hell when the glass shard split his flesh further. Sam felt blood begin to drip down his body.  
“Where have you taken him?” the girl snarled as Sam’s empathic barriers were battered by her hatred but they held firm. He had spent decades strengthening them. He couldn’t afford to let her emotions infect him.  
She gave him just enough air for him to speak and he managed to smirk and hiss “Took him to Disney Land you Bitch”  
She screamed in rage, then all of a sudden the young girl had a machete in her hand and Sam wondered for a second where she had hid the thing so he couldn’t see it. He pushed the thought aside. It was time to fight back. He broke the psychic hold she had on him with a blast of his own causing the blade to fly from her hand.  
Meg shrieked in anger. “I’ll find him you know. You can’t hide him forever. And how do you think he’s going to react when he finds out his new best friend is one of the freaks he hunts? I won’t have to kill you ‘cause I’m sure he will.” Then she was gone. 

“Damn it” Sam muttered to himself. He had wanted to get some more out of her before she disappeared. Sam sighed and stretched his now complaining muscles. He may be immortal and extremely hard to kill but getting slammed against concrete still hurt. He ran his hand under his t-shirt and winced as he managed to get a grip on the glass embedded there. The shard was bigger than he thought and it sliced into his hand as he pulled it out. Sam started to head back to his car with the intention of checking on Dean but then hesitated. She didn’t know where Dean was and he didn’t know what she was. She might have some way to follow Sam, after all he had never come across her kind before. Dean was safe for now and Sam knew his two loyal friends were watching over him. Sam decided to stick with his original plan. Next stop was the Reynolds Motel.

Pulling up beside the Motel Sam remembered how much of a dump this place actually was. It was the type of place that rented by the hour and no questions were asked. No matter what. About anything. Ever. The outside of the building was so shabby it almost looked abandoned. The only sign of life was a flickering light in a neon sign. The light caused shadows to undulate in the dark lonely car lot. There was only one car there other than Sam’s. The sleek black machine glittered in the dim glow. Sam wasn’t much of a car expert but even he recognised the signs of an old classic kept lovingly pristine. It seemed logical to assume that the car belonged either to the hunter asleep in his home or his father as it was the same one in the photograph that Sam had found on Dean earlier. 

Sam approached the car giving it a glance over before picking the lock. Older models were so much easier to break into. Fewer alarms. The interior of the car contained no clues. It held the usual assortment of junk that most cars held. Empty juice cans, old sweet wrappers, various newspapers. The remains of a long time spent travelling the empty highways. It was a little odd though that there was not a single personal item of Dean’s. Sam then did the same with the trunk. That was of more interest but not terribly helpful. The trunk of the car was brimming with the usual supplies a hunter might carry. Weapons, salt, iron, holy water as well as the other requirements of a hunter’s lifestyle including a very well stocked first aid kit. The question sprang to Sam’s mind. If he had such a first class first aid kit complete with antibiotics and morphine, why had that slice in Dean’s chest been left to fester? Untreated, that injury would have turned into blood poisoning, maybe even septicaemia. Eventually, it could have killed him. Sam pushed that from his mind as he made his way over to Dean’s twin room, instantly noticing the do not disturb sign on the door, a typical hunter precaution. Sam searched the room for any emotions that would indicate any inhabitants. There was a single man in the room. An older man. Sam could feel the emotions rolling off him amid the smell of whiskey and gun oil. Resentment, anger and bitterness oozed from the man. Sam frowned as he continued to trawl through the emotions of Deans Dad. There was no worry. Not for Dean. Sam’s eyes narrowed. He tried to ignore his instinctive dislike for the older Winchester and not to make any snap judgements about the man within until he knew more about Dean. Maybe Dean frequently disappeared for a few days, maybe with a girl, but from what little he had seen he doubted it. He wouldn’t be able to search the room until John left so it would have to wait. The streets were deserted as he headed home but that didn’t stop Sam from feeling uneasy, his entire body was on high alert. Things were just too quiet and it gave Sam a bad feeling. And Sam’s bad feelings were never wrong. Sam didn’t relax until he crossed his own threshold. 

He hadn’t seen a single Daimon.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 7

Shadow came padding down the hall to greet Sam as soon as he walked in the door and he smiled at his friend, gradually feeling his tense muscles relax. “Everything okay here?”

The wolf just huffed indignantly at Sam.

“Silly question. Winter hasn’t eaten Dean has he?” Sam grinned at the glare the wolf sent him. “Will you wake me when he wakes up?”

The wolf nodded his large head before smacking Sam’s leg fondly with his tail and padding off. Sam’s smile slowly faded from his face as he considered what he knew which wasn’t much. He made his way to his armoury and began his nightly ritual which he had skipped the night before due to the pain he was in. Sam let his mind wander as he slowly cleaned and sharpened his weapons. Can’t kill something with a blunt sword and the repetitive motion helped him to order his thoughts as he brought his blades to a lethal shine. The more he thought about it the more convinced he was that Dean was the guy in his vision. Clearly, something was after him for reasons unknown. And Meg was working on the orders of another. Sam had barely spoken to the kid and yet he couldn’t stop feeling the urge to protect him which worried him. Don’t feel. Don’t get attatched. That had been his code for centuries. It kept himself and others safe. Yet that stain Dean carried marked him as something else, something that shouldn’t be protected. Something evil, full of hate. When he added the vision full of blood to that, it didn’t make Dean look good. In fact it should make him look really, really bad. But when he compared it to the rest of his aura, it didn’t match. It was as if it had been put there somehow. Sam shook his head. That was impossible. An aura can’t be altered, it simply _is_. It was the representative of all a person was and you couldn’t just change a person. But then again his entire life was made up of the impossible. Sam considered his next move before finally coming to a decision. He would try getting more answers from Dean when he woke up and then, if he still couldn’t solve anything he would have to call Ash. Sam frowned. He hated asking for help but this could be something big. And he would have to warn the other Dark Hunters about Meg. If he had never seen her kind at his age he doubted the others had. He hadn’t really had all that much contact with the other Dark Hunters in New Orleans, prefering to keep his distance, but there was one he kept in semi-regular contact with. Sam decided to contact Jean-Luc and have the pirate spread the word. Finally he slipped off to bed. He would probably have to get up during daylight hours to see to Dean so he would need all the sleep he could get. And maybe his headache would finally clear.

  
It was indeed the daylight hours when Dean woke up and Sam too was woken. In his case it was by a wolf bashing at his mental barriers that Sam erected around his mind when he slept. Sam hated being up during the day and groaned as Winter grabbed the corner of his blanket with his teeth and pulled.  Sam jerked upright at the movement and, with a snarl, he grabbed the knife he kept under his pillow, instantly ready to fight. Sam didn’t relax until he glimpsed his friend.

  
“Alright. I’m awake. Dean’s up?”

The wolf just stared at him and Sam could plainly read the ‘if he wasn’t why would I have woken you up cause your sooo charming during daylight hours. Idiot’ on the animals face. He frequently got the ‘idiot’ look from his companions.

Sam snorted and grumbled to himself as he dragged himself completely out of bed, cursing the blazing sun outside. He missed the winters in Iceland even if the summers sucked. He stretched out his muscles, satisfied that the Dream-Hunters had done their work and that finally his headache was gone. He threw on his usual dark t-shirt and jeans and went to check on his guest, still trying to figure out how to get answers without giving himself away. Meg did have a point after all. Dean had spent his life killing things like him and Sam had to figure out if Dean could differentiate evil from, well, him. He may not be innocent but he wasn’t evil. He had spent a long time convincing himself of that after Ruby. He grabbed his dark shades to cover his eyes and headed towards his guest.

Dean was just starting to stir when Sam entered the room.

Dean yawned before greeting Sam with still tired eyes. “Thought you’d be sleeping since you work nights.”

“Normally I would be but I’ve got an injured guy in my spare room that I need to check on.”

Sam felt a brief flash of guilt from him at that comment and Dean tensed “I’m fine Sam”

“Yeah, you said that just before you passed out last night, Dean.”

Dean scowled but he couldn’t really argue with that.

“Let me just have a look at your wounds then I’ll grab a change of clothes for you. I had to cut off your t-shirt to get at your injuries.”  
Dean nodded and tried to relax at Sam’s approach. Sam gently removed the bandage on Dean’s chest and frowned. The knife wound was still red and puffy and warm to the touch. “This has got a pretty bad infection in it. What happened?” Sam queried.

Dean just shrugged but didn’t answer. Sam felt shame coming from Dean so didn’t push it. He just cleaned the wound again and re-bandaged it. He moved on to check Dean’s swollen ankle. “Did you remember anything else about the other night?”

Dean looked uneasy at the question and again refused to speak so Sam tried again.

“Did you recognise the person who jumped you?”

“No” Dean finally said out loud then very quietly under his breath so Sam was sure Dean hadn’t meant him to hear it “but she knew me”.

Sam found sympathy for the confused hunter welling in him as he searched his face looking for any hint of a lie. He shoved it aside. He couldn’t let himself get emotionally involved. Emotions were dangerous, a weapon to be used against him and the results could be deadly. He had learnt that lesson painfully and refused to allow himself to be manipulated again.

“This ankle isn’t as bad as I thought but you still shouldn’t walk on it.”

Next he had a look at his head wound. “This isn’t too bad either but you still have a bit of a fever”

Dean just grunted. He’d dealt with worse injuries than a sprained ankle.

“Think you could stomach some food?”

Dean hesitated as he considered his present state. He considered refusing before his stomach gave a loud grumble. Thinking about it he hadn’t eaten anything the day he was attacked which meant he hadn’t eaten in over two days.  In the end it was Sam that answered his question. He had heard the rumble coming from the young hunter.  
“It’ll just be something light for now. I’ve got some soup for you. An old family recipe”

  
Dean considered that and grudgingly admitted to himself that solid food would not be the best thing for him right now before nodding.

Sam momentarily wondered what had made him mention his family before continuing “I brought you a change of clothes if you want to get up since I had to cut yours. They’ll probably drown you cause they’re mine but it’s all I’ve got.”

Dean couldn’t help a quick flash of annoyance which was soon covered in shame. Sam felt it but didn’t understand the reason for it. He didn’t know how little Dean had in the way of clothes and how much his usual scruffy appearance bothered him. The only clothing that Dean had that wasn’t a mess was his suit for when he was playing FBI.  
Sam finished his inspection of Dean’s wounds before speaking again.

“There’s a shower next door down if you wants one.” Sam paused a moment. He knew the hunter shouldn’t be on that leg but had the feeling he would just take one anyway. Sam considered offering to help him to the bathroom but decided against it. He could tell he wasn’t the type to accept help unless he had too.

He was just leaving the room when he heard a quiet “Sam?”

He turned back to the human.

“Thanks.”

Sam just nodded before heading to the kitchen. He heard Dean moving in the opposite direction, obviously ignoring Sam’s advice to stay off his leg. Sam had to admit, he would have done the same. He rummaged around his cupboards looking for the ingredients for his go to comfort soup. Tomato and rice. Of course it had changed over the centuries. The ingredients he had used when he was still human didn’t exist anymore but tomato and rice was the closest equivalent he had found. As Sam cooked he heard the shower turn off and Dean stumbling around as he dressed, cursing at the size of the clothes. The clothes that fit Sam’s tall, broad frame must be massively too big for him.  
Finally just as Sam was serving up the soup that had always brought him fond memories he heard Dean calling out to him.

  
“Sam?” Dean called out as he limped slowly down the hall. He had to admit that he felt a lot better for having cleaned off the grime from his hair and body using decent shampoo and shower gel instead of the usual cheap crap that he had and for having clean cloths even if he looked ridiculous. The jeans were several inches too long and he had to turn up the bottom to stop himself from tripping over them. The black t-shirt which was probably tight on Sam was a better fit but the black sweatshirt he had pulled over his head had sleaves that hung over his hands. But at least they were warm and clean even if he looked like a boyband reject.

He heard Sam moving about in the kitchen where a delicious smell was drifting from and heard his voice call out “Just grab a seat and I’ll bring this to you.”

Dean turned into what was obviously a dinning room. The first thing that Dean noticed was a display case full of minerals and gems on one wall next to floor to ceiling shelves full of books. He had everything in his book collection ranging from science fiction novels to Law textbooks.  
“Mineral collector. Wierd hobby” he muttered to himself. Then he noticed there was a large oak dinning table with some art supplies on it. He headed over to one of the seats at the table. At the last moment he stumbled slightly knocking something over when he bashed his bad arm. He bent to pick it up and froze before standing up staring at the sketchbook he had found with his face looking back at him.

Sam carried the tray of soup and a large glass of water for both himself and Dean to his dinning room.  “Here you go Dean”.

Sam turned his eyes towards Dean when he didn’t receive an answer then paused as he saw what Dean was looking at.

Dean was standing next to Sam’s table where he had stupidly left his open sketch book. Dean had it in his hands, frozen at the horrific images that had made up Sam’s vision and what was a clear and unmistakable picture of Dean’s blood soaked face.  
Dean jerked round to face him, knuckles turning white as he gripped the book tightly.

“What the Hell is this Sam?”

Sam tried to keep his expression blank as he silently cursed himself. He couldn’t believe he had been careless enough to leave that out and for once he didn’t know what to say.

“Well? What is this?” Dean approached the taller man, and now it was anger flashing in his green eyes. Sam knew what this must look like.

“It’s not what you think Dean.” Sam cringed as he heard the words that caused Dean to scowl and his suspicion to rise.

“And what do I think this is?”

Shit. How the Hell could Sam explain away that grizzly image? Sam needed to come up with an explanation for it and fast. Nothing came to mind so Sam decided to take a risk. He would go with the truth, at least part of it. The kid was a hunter after all so he might believe him. He dealt with the supernatural on a daily basis after all so it shouldnt shock him too much. And Sam could fake being human and worried about being believed. It had, after all, been his life while he was human.

Dean was watching Sam as the kid nervously pushed his hair out his eyes. The action made Sam seem younger and reminded Dean that the guy was just a kid. Sam’s expressionless face had turned uneasy and slightly scared and finally seeing some emotion on Sam’s face made Dean feel better, more in control.  
The thought came to Sam that maybe he could use this to his advantage. Maybe if Dean knew he was aware of psychics he would open up more. He just had to convince Dean he was nervous about how he would react.

“Look Dean, you’re probably not going to believe me, nobody ever does.”

Dean narrowed his eyes “Try me”

“You’ll probably just think I’m nuts. Hell, sometimes I think I’m nuts but I swear it’s the truth.”  That was actually true. When he had still been alive the people in his village had thought he was crazy and it had left him feeling isolated at best and lead to him being attacked at worst. That was probably why he fell so heavily for the one person who didn’t. But he wouldn’t think about her.

“Just don’t freak out okay?” and Dean could hear the nervousness in his tone.

Sam hesitated slightly. He really didn’t want to lie to Dean but he couldn’t tell him the truth. Sam got the impression he’d been lied to a lot but both Artemis and Ash would have his ass if he did. If he was going to lie he had to be convincing.

“Sometimes I have nightmares and sometimes they come true.”

Dean paused before speaking. “Come again?”

“You heard me. I had a vision about you. That’s what I saw.”

Dean sighed. Of all the answers he had been imagining that wasn’t one of them. He would have preferred his initial thought that Sam was just a pshyco. Crazy he could deal with.  “You’re a psychic?”

Sam shrugged as he seemed to gather himself back together. Dean studied the image. It was definitely him and if Sam was the real deal and not just some weirdo it did not bode well for his future. Dean was actually hoping for Sam to turn out to be a pshyco.  He studied the image in closer detail. He noticed the faint drawing of a blond woman and it was that which made Dean accept what Sam was saying as the truth. The woman was his mother and Dean hadn’t even seen a photograph of her since his Dad had confiscated the only one Dean had on his 19th birthday.

“Shit. Was this before or after you found me?” he queried.

“Before” Sam admitted, shifting uneasily.

Dean felt a moment of disappointment in his gut. He had been starting to believe that Sam was actually just a nice guy.

Sam felt the disappointment in Dean and took a guess as to what caused it.  “But I didn’t realise it was you until later. I was more focused on your injuries at the time.” Sam paused before speaking again. “Any idea what all that means?”

Dean just shook his head.

Sam decided then and there. He had to call Ash.


	9. chapter 9

CHAPTER 8  
Dean continued to study the image as the shock of Sam’s revelation started to fade. He couldn’t decide why he was so shaken up. He had met psychics before and had always found himself to have an instinctive dislike to them, had found every single one of them, no matter how powerful, had set him on edge. Dean had always found them to be overly dramatic. Sam, with his calm demeanour, quiet manner and one single drawing had blown all of them out the water. This one page drawn by a stranger depicted his entire life. Fire and blood, an antique car, faint memories of a woman he hardly remembered and a barely there shadow of a figure. He ran a thumb over his mother’s face. The detail was amazing and brought back to him the memory of her smile. Weapons and fighting and blood. That was all his life consisted of. Dean jerked slightly as Sam sat uneasily next to him still holding the tray.  
“You’re taking this surprisingly well. Not that I’m complaining but most people would have run screaming by now.”  
“Yeah, well, let’s just say that I’ve seen a few things that have taught me to keep a very open mind.”  
“Interesting life”  
Dean didn’t say anything and Sam felt his frustration rising. Getting Dean to talk was like pulling teeth. He had the feeling that if he pushed too hard Dean would run.  
Dean just kept staring at the image as if trying to memorise it.  
Finally Sam broke the silence and forced dean to put the book down by placing the tray in front of him. “Here. You need to eat.”  
Dean had to admit it smelt good and his stomach rumbled again and finally Dean started to eat. Sam and Dean sat in silence for a while. Sam could tell Dean was lost in thought and took a guess at what he was thinking about. Dean jerked when Sam finally broke the silence.  
“I would have helped you anyway, you know. Even without the vision.”  
To his surprise Dean glared at him.  
“You don’t know me and I don’t need your help or your pity” he snapped out, his words hostile. “What is it you want from me?”  
“Not a thing. I don’t know you so how could I want anything from you? And I don’t know a thing about you so why would I pity you?”  
Dean frowned at how quickly Sam had regained control of himself. His face had returned to the emotionless expression he had held earlier, his nervousness from a moment ago had disappeared in the face of Dean’s aggression. Dean recognised the action. There was something hidden in Sam’s past, something bad. Dean did it too and felt curiosity about the guy stir in his gut.  
“So how often do these visions of yours happen?”  
“Not often”  
“So you, what? Go around trying to rescue complete strangers?”  
Sam hated talking about his visions. It brought back too many painful memories and when he next spoke his voice was hard “I help if I can.”  
Dean’s eyes kept drifting back to the sketch. Even though Dean could see the topic wasn’t something Sam wanted to discuss he felt he had a right. If he was in a vision he deserved to know about it.  
“So how accurate are your visions?”  
“Accurate enough to know you’re in trouble”  
Dean just shrugged trying to brush of the fear he felt as the blood soaked image of himself seemed to float in his mind. “No change there”  
Sam breathed deeply. Was this Dean opening up? “So how often are you in this type of trouble?”  
Dean ran his hands through his short hair and over the back of his neck and Sam could feel his discomfort with the topic. How could this one kid produce so much negative emotion? Sam could feel it battering against the solid barriers that he had spent centuries building and maintaining.  
Dean went back to eating not realising the discomfort that was hidden in Sam’s dark eyes. All the time his eyes flickered between what he was eating and Sam’s sketch. He didn’t need to keep looking at it as Dean felt like it was already seared into his mind. He wasn’t really surprised. Dean had always known his death, like his life, would be bloody. It was just a matter of time.  
“Is there a time frame for this? Do you know when I’m going to… die?”  
Sam glanced at him sharply. “We don’t know that’s what this is Dean. Visions are always open to interpretation” Sam was trying to sound soothing but his diamond hard walls and the centuries of no practice left him sounding cold and Dean winced slightly at his harsh tone. Sam noticed and started to feel guilt for the first time in many years. It had been so long since he had to be gentle with someone. Normally it was just stab the bad guy and if the victim was alive, send them to hospital. No attachments. He never had to be soothing and comforting for more than the length of time it took for the ambulance to arrive. He was struggling and Dean was suffering for it.  
“You’re the one who said I’m in trouble.”  
“There’s a difference between trouble and dead, Dean”.  
Dean looked at the sketch book again until Sam snatched it away from him so he could no longer see it. “We can worry about that later. Right now you need to get better.”  
Dean wanted to argue but he knew he was right as he felt himself start to yawn. He didn’t even comment on Sam’s use of the word ‘we’. Now that he had eaten he felt his eyes beginning to slide closed. “Just get some sleep Dean. We both need it.”  
Normally Dean would have argued, would have just disregarded Sam and left after he had eaten but instead he just glanced up at Sam. There had been a slight softening in his tone and it surprised Dean.  
“I should leave. I’m a danger to you Sam”  
This time Sam actually snorted “I’m psychic Dean. Nobody gets within 100 yards of my house without me knowing. If someone’s coming for you, you’ll get plenty of warning. There’s also two very large wolves here who have decided that you’re part of the pack. So get some sleep. I’ll wake you before I go if you’re not up before then.” Sam tried to squash the dart of pride he felt as Dean finally relaxed and gave a small smile.  
“Sleep sound good actually.” Dean stood up and limped slowly back down the hall to his room. What he didn’t know was that Sam was still watching him only it wasn’t in the usual manner. Sam’s eyes were now glowing an icy blue as he studied Dean’s aura and frowned. Dean’s aura reflected the many aspects of the kid and the colours blended together in a soothing image of someone with a bright soul. Then, right there in the very centre was that mark. Sam couldn’t be sure but he thought it was increasing in size. A few tiny tendrils seemed to have developed at the edges. Concern for Dean began to build in him. He had to call Ash and he was going to do it now, even if it was the middle of the day.  
Sam grabbed his cell. Every Dark Hunter had Ash as their number one contact but Sam had never had occasion to call the Atlantian. He did so now only to scowl in annoyance before glaring at the phone in his hand. No service. Sam’s phone was working fine so the problem must have been at Ash’s end. Just to make sure he dialled Jean-Luc. He left the pirate a warning about Meg before trying Ash again. Not even voicemail. Finally Sam headed to his own bed for a few hours’ sleep before he had to get up again. He tried to put the mystery behind him but having Dean there was making him uneasy and he couldn’t get his mind to rest. Sam wasn’t used to dealing with people for an extended period of time anymore. Sam finally forced his mind to go blank. Sam had to be sharp because he still had Daimon's to kill.  
When Sam finally stirred again it was later than he usually slept. He followed his usual routine and it was only when he was in the shower enjoying the warmth of the water cascading through his hair and over his shoulders that he realised how tense his muscles actually were. His entire body was like a coiled spring and it was the warmth and the soothing water that let him unwind his battle ready body. He finally emerged feeling refreshed and more like himself than he had before as he redressed. He dressed in his usual black before he tried Ash again but still got no reply. He frowned in annoyance. A vision had shown Sam what Ash really was and he couldn’t help a smirk at the idea of an all-powerful God losing cell reception. He left the safety of his room and paused a moment at Dean’s door but when he didn’t hear him moving he went on to his armoury. It might be a mistake but Sam didn’t take as many knives as he usually did as he didn’t want Dean to notice.  
Sam made a quick omelette for himself which he ate while making another for Dean before going to wake the sleeping hunter. While Sam was in the hall he heard panicked muttering from the room. Sam opened the door to hear Dean muttering in the throes of some nightmare. His eyes were rolling beneath his lids and he was gasping, sweat glistening on his brow as he tossed and turned in the tangled mess of the sheets. Sam went to wake him but paused, listening to his words. Maybe it would give him a clue to the situation  
“Dad... Sammy… the eyes. The yellow eyes… Don’t Dad. I won’t… Mom… My fault...” He let out a pitiful moan that had Sam reaching for Dean’s shoulder but Sam froze at his next words “Not the psychic. Please Dad, don’t. Not again… The yellow eyes…” He let out a whimper.  
What the hell?  
“Dean. Dean. Wake up.”  
Dean didn’t respond so this time Sam gently shook his shoulder. This time Dean jerked upright and lashed out, panic in his eyes. But it wasn’t the physical blow that hurt. Sam dodged that easily. It was the force of the mental blow that slammed into him which left him reeling as he staggered back. And from the looks of it Dean didn’t even know he had done it. And if he didn’t know that, did he know he had powers at all? Because Sam really didn’t want to have to be the one to break the news to the hunter.  
“You okay Dean?”  
“Sam?” Dean sounded spooked.  
“That was one hell of a nightmare”  
Dean rubbed his face and blinked tiredly as his breathing steadied out.  
“You’re not the only one who has nightmares.”  
“About psychics?”  
Dean glanced at him sharply “What did you say?”  
Sam shrugged, the gesture feeling foreign to him. “You were talking in your sleep.”  
“Huh.”  
“What were you dreaming about?”  
“I don’t remember. I never do.”  
Sam could tell Dean was lying. He did remember and whatever it was it scared him.  
“I don’t know about you but I could do with a coffee.”  
“I’d kill for one”  
“I made you some food. I’ll go put it on. I’ll be in the kitchen”. Sam turned and left Dean to get dressed.  
He really did need a coffee.  
When Dean finally joined Sam, Sam was already half way through his second cup. He handed one to Dean who took a gulp and gave a contented sigh.  
“Now this is liquid gold.”  
“I know you’ve just met me but if you want to talk about your dreams you can. You know I’m a psychic so you know I’m not easily spooked. I’ve seen some pretty horrific things in my dreams.”  
Dean shrugged. “It’s nothing. PTSD from my time in the Marines.” Dean was glad he mentioned the Marines earlier. It gave him a plausible reason for his bad dreams. Dean studied Sam. Although his face gave no indication of it Dean got the impression Sam was getting frustrated and Dean was actually tempted to open up to him. He resisted. Sam maybe a psychic but he didn’t need to know about what else went bump in the night. He was just a kid. But there was just something slightly odd about him that Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on.  
“Well, I need to be heading out. Make yourself at home Dean and I’ll see you at sunrise.”  
Dean nodded. “Thanks Sam” and Dean did intend to make himself at home. In fact he intended to search it and find out what Sam was hiding. He started as soon as Sam was out of the front door.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 9

It was a warm evening in New Orleans tonight and the air was humid as Sam headed out into the night. There was no wind but there was a promise of lightning in the air and it brought deeply buried memories to the forefront of his mind from days long gone. Memories from a time when a hug from his brother would chase away his fear of the storms. Sam forced his regrets from his mind. There was no point dwelling on things that happened so long ago it was literally ancient history.

Sam worked his way steadily through the city, silently working to protect the people who called it home. He wanted to get back to Dean but he wouldn’t neglect his duty. He made his way through the dark streets searching for any danger but there was nothing. Where were all the soul sucking daimons? Sam never thought that he would ever be concerned about there not being any daimon activity but this wasn’t natural. Three nights and not one single sighting. Something was wrong. Sam let his senses roam searching for a hint of something, anything, out of place. The silence in the night air seemed to be deafening. He paused, his gaze piercing the still air before shaking his head. This was pointless. Sam dug out his phone and fired of a few quick messages. One to Jean-Luc and the other to Valerius with one single comment.

_Do the daimons know something we don’t?_

Because Sam was sure they must do. They were never this quiet. Sam was surprised he got an almost instantaneous reply from Jean Luc. The Spaniard’s response was short.

_The city is clear. Trouble must be brewing._

Sam sighed, his hidden frustration mounting. Daimons had to eat and they only had a single food source- human souls. So where were they all? And where was Ash? As the night progressed Sam’s hidden frustration grew. Eventually Sam gave up and he started to head home. The bars and clubs had already emptied and even the tourists had gone staggering home. The only people still out were the drunks stumbling along and the prostitutes working the streets. Even the homeless had taken to whatever shelter they could find.

Then he saw her, walking elegantly towards him. Petite. Slim. Short, blond hair. She was wearing tight fitting leather pants with a cropped t-shirt which exposed her taught, flat stomach and long slender arms. A long smooth neck reached up to a pretty face with pouting lips and big brown eyes. She caught Sam’s eye and gave a seductive smile. Sam nearly took her for another street worker before something about her made him pause. As she approached him, her walk wasn’t the usual seductive gait of a working girl but something more predatory. Sam studied her before speaking.

“Meg” Sam finally acknowledged her.

She came to a stop just out with Sam’s reach and cocked her head as her eyes turned black. “You’re getting better, Sam. Took you hardly any time at all to recognise me.”

“Why don’t you do us all a favour and just die for good? Cause I’m getting fed up killing you”

The blond grinned maliciously. “But Sammy I’m having so much fun. Do you like my new meat suit? I like this one. I think I’ll keep it for a while.” She twirled a strand of her short hair around her finger in a gesture of mock innocence. Sam drew a long, serrated knife from his belt, suddenly regretting he had only a single one and his sword instead of his usual arsenal.

“Do you really want to mess with me again Meg?”

Meg had started pacing around him and Sam followed her movements with his eyes.

“Oh, but Sammy, this trip top-side has been so educational for me. I’m even actually learning stuff. You see, I’d never dealt with one of your kind before so I went to have a chat with an old friend of mine. Turns out he wasn’t completely useless and gave me a little fact I didn’t know.”

She continued to pace around him with a grin plastered on her face. She looked so smug Sam was starting to feel uneasy. Of course not a hint of it shone on the surface for her sly eyes to detect, but all the same he prepared himself for the attack that he knew was coming. However, when it came he did not expect what happened next.

“I reckon getting you to tell me where my puppy is will be impossible so I’m going to do something a little bit different.”

“Oh really?” Sam moved his body into a fighting stance making himself as intimidating as his large frame allowed.

“What my friend told me is you have no soul. Is that true little Sammy?  It is isn't it.  And do you know what that means?”

Sam didn’t speak but he really wanted to wipe that look off her face.

“It means you’re just an empty vessel waiting to be filled” she grinned.

If possible the blood would have drained from his face. Sam could see where this was going and he started throwing up every mental barrier he had around himself to protect his mind. Before he could get his extra barriers in place Sam saw the now familiar smoke flowing towards him. A feeling of dread consumed him as he felt it force its way inside of him. He managed to erect a thin mental defence in his own mind to protect him as a mental struggle began.

Sam fought against the fog he could feel in his mind as he tried to keep his thoughts his own. He hadn't been prepared for this.  He wasn’t ready for the battle in his mind that was currently raging as he choked on the smoke in his throat and before he felt the black smoke smother his consciousness, he was engulfed in darkness. He should have called Ash.

Meg stretched her consciousness to every single part of her new meat suit. She felt the power contained within his, no her, body. This vessel was now hers. It felt odd. She’d never had a male vessel before and the balance was different. She felt the strength of the muscles as she moved, trying to get used to her new height. This body was so much stronger than all the other people she had possessed. All her senses were sharper, almost painful in their clarity. Meg was no fool. She was under no impression that if she hadn’t caught the dark hunter off guard she wouldn’t have been able to supress him and she didn’t think she would be able to do it again. She smiled and felt the unfamiliar muscles of her face move. She ran her hands through her hair and frowned. She’d have to get a haircut, maybe dye it blond. She liked the short hair of her old vessel. The idea of possessing the dark hunter had come to her as she was considering how to get Winchesters’ location from him. She had accepted that torturing the man wouldn’t do any good but she had to find the human before her father discovered that she had lost him. She was just supposed to be keeping an eye on him, not interacting with him. And she really didn’t want to go back to hell. When she learnt that the dark hunter was a human whose soul had been removed the idea of simply possessing him had made her grin. Without a soul he would not have any ability to fight back. She could simply take his body and steal his thoughts. Not only would she have the physical strength of his body she would have control of his mental powers as well. She had grinned at the idea as her cockiness grew. That was until she was actually forcing her way into his body expecting no resistance. It had felt ‘sticky’ going in instead of the usual easy installation of one soul over another.

Over the years Meg had possessed many people so she was familiar with the sensation. This time had been different. Could it just be a Dark Hunter thing? But this body was soulless. She disregarded the feeling. Meg began walking as she continued to adjust to the new vessel. After a while she started searching Sam’s mind for Dean’s location. It was when Meg tried to tap into Sam’s memories that she was brought to a sharp stop. Something was wrong. She couldn’t find him. She searched but there was no trace of Sam. She cursed herself. If she had erased him she was no better off than before and no closer to locating Dean.

Then she felt something in her mind, a layer of icy coldness was chilling her. In all her years of possessing people she had never felt anything like this. Finally she dismissed it, again as a Dark Hunter thing. She was actually slightly disappointed at how easy it had been to erase Sam. She hadn’t even meant too. She needed his thoughts and she wanted his powers. She would be able to increase her ranking in the hierarchy of Hell with them. Surely a Dark Hunter wouldn’t be extinguished that easily. There should be at least some residual echoes of his thoughts. She felt her anger building. Her plan had backfired. She tapped into her own powers and lashed out mentally at the nearest object causing the street light to bend and spark before going out. She frowned. It was just her usual strength, no Dark Hunter super charged blast. And that feeling of ice was still in her mind.

Unbeknown to Meg was that there was something asleep behind that ice but it wasn’t going to stay asleep long. In his mind Sam had been protected by the psychic barriers that he permanently kept around himself. The feeling of floating was weakening and he was becoming more aware. Sam knew there was something he should be trying to do. He had a job to do, maybe someone to help. But in the little ball of ice that protected his mind all he could do was float. No, that wasn’t right. He had a job to do. He struggled to remember. He managed to grab onto a name before it disappeared into the dark. Dean. Dean needed help. He almost floated away again. Then he felt it. His gently floating form bumped against something hard. The jolt stopped Sam from slipping away again as he recognised the feeling. It was his own mental barriers and he was both trapped and protected. Something was supressing him. He was trapped inside his own brain.

And then he remembered. As it came back to him he got angry as he felt his body moving and knowing that he wasn’t in control. Rage flooded his mind before he managed to supress it.

Meg.

Sam gradually came back to himself. He knew the walls of ice he unconsciously used as an empathic block were what had saved him from Meg. He had no idea how long he had been suppressed for but he wanted his body back. He could tell that Meg had tried to access his power, could imagine her poking away at his mind trying to steal what was his. He began to uncoil his thoughts and he could finally see again. He was seeing what Meg was seeing through his eyes. And he really didn’t like what he was seeing.

They were standing in a lonely, dark alley that Sam didn’t recognise. She had a kid pinned against the wall of the alley. The kid couldn’t have been older than thirteen. Sam could tell from the boy’s appearance that he was an Appollite. The kid was just a teenager and he was terrified. His eyes were wide and full of fear and his voice waivered when he spoke, matching the trembling of his limbs.

“You can’t hurt me. I’m not a Daimon and Dark Hunters can only kill Daimons” he managed to mumble even as Meg increased the pressure on him.

Sam felt Meg smirk with his face. “I’ll tell you a secret kid, I’m not really a Dark Hunter, I’ve just stolen this body so I can do whatever I damn well want. I could gut you from navel to nose and nobody could do anything to stop me.  And do you know something else?”  She was whispering in the kids ear now.

The kid's trembling increased as he tried to shake his head but could only let out a whimper as she towered over him in Sam's body.

"I'd take my time and _enjoy_ it."

Meg’s words, spoken with Sam's voice, dripped with lethality. He could feel the smugness in Meg as she pushed a knife against the struggling and panic ridden kids’ throat and could only watch as Sam’s blade began to pierce his skin. Sam felt the kids fear like a physical blow. And it gave him something to focus on and allowed him to broadcast his thoughts. He slammed his thoughts loudly into Meg forcing her to hear him.

_No you don’t bitch_

Meg jolted in surprise at hearing Sam’s voice in her mind so much so that the kid managed to twist out of her grip and run, blood still streaming over his skin and down his throat.

“So you’re not dead then, Sammy. Good to know but I know where Dean is now so I don’t need you anymore. Turns out it’s easy to find out where a Dark Hunter lives if you talk to the right person. You really should keep your home better hidden.”

_Im going to rip out your guts for this_

Sam felt the floating feeling nipping at the edges of his mind but before the darkness engulfed him again he let out a mental scream of fear.

**Artemis’s Temple **

“I’m like a bird in puzzle Acheron!”

Ash paused trying to decide what she meant. “Rat in a maze. Damn it Artie learn to speak. I get a headache trying to figure out what you’re saying.”

“Whatever.” She paused and Ash waited for it. “I’m not a rat!” the red head shrieked before getting back on track. “He’s going to kill me Acheron and it’ll be your fault. Or do you just not care about me anymore?” she simpered.

 _No. Not for thousands of years_ he thought bitterly to himself. Damn her for tying him to her. “Look Artie I don’t have time to be dealing with this shit. You’re not a child. You pissed him off, you deal with him.”

“I hate it when you talk like that” he heard her mutter and smirked. That was exactly why he did it after all. This time she spoke so he could hear

“But it wasn’t my fault, Acheron. After everything I’ve done for you, you have to help me”.

This time it was a whine. Ash gritted his teeth. The last thing he wanted to do was help her in any way. And Ash was sure there was more to this story. Although Maximon had the reputation of being a bully he wasn’t. He didn’t attack for no reason. Whatever Artie had done he had no doubt she deserved it. He sighed. The manipulative bitch knew he couldn’t let her die.

“I really don’t have time for this right now, Artie. Stay here. He can’t get to you here, and I’ll deal with him later.”

Gods of Vengeance as a general rule weren’t exactly forgiving but Maximon was at least known to be reasonable on occasion. And he owed Ash. “Stay here” he repeated. Artemis looked coy as she approached him seductively. She ran her hands across his bare chest

“You could stay here with me. We’ve not made love for a week” she whispered. Ash felt his anger mount and he grabbed her hand that she had placed on his groin. He was fed up of being used. “What we do is not making love Artie”. He pushed her away roughly. Fake tears began to form in her eyes. Bitch. “If you want Maximon dealt with I have to go, I’ve got other things to take care of first.” And this time he was telling the truth. He had felt a wrench in his mind. One of his Hunters was in trouble. One that never asked for his help and that was always in control, always calm and always emotionless, was panicking. And Sam never panicked.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 10

Ash flashed himself to Sanctuary and mentally searched for the hunter but couldn’t locate him.  All he could get was the sensation that he was in New Orleans and he was fighting against something.  Something that was trying to block his mind and Sam was fighting back.

Ash tracked down Aimee who was talking to Fang.  The blond looked worried and Fang was trying to reassure her.

“I’m telling you Fang, somethings wrong.  He should _be_ here.  He’s never not turned up and you know it.”

And Fang did know it.  If Sam ever missed his turn at watch duty for Sanctuary he always got word to one of the other Dark Hunters.  Fang was concerned and it wasn’t often the wolf worried about anybody outside of his pack and family.

“He probably got caught up in some Dark Hunter business.”  He winced as Aimee just glared at him. 

Fang visibly sighed with relief when he heard Ash approaching.  Out of all the supernatural beings Fang knew, his wife was by far the most terrifying.  Ash hadn’t visited Sanctuary for several weeks so there was only one reason he could be here now.  Fang didn’t believe in coincidences. 

The Arcadian had spotted Ash before Fang did.  She gave Ash a smile but he could see the concern in her eyes.  Aimee was obviously thinking the same thing as Fang.  Sam may not go out of his way to make friends but that didn’t stop Aimee from worrying.  She was just that kind of bear.

Ash gave that mysterious smile of his before greeting them.

“Fang.  Aimee.”

 Aimee didn’t even greet Ash before getting to the point.

“Sam’s in trouble”

Ash just cocked an eyebrow at her and gave no indication that was why he was here.  “What makes you say that?”

Fang sighed before joining the conversation.  “He should have been over here by now and he hasn’t been and we’ve not heard from him.” He paused as if ordering his thoughts.  He wasn’t even sure if the event from two nights ago was even relevant.  “There was someone in here a few days ago.  Wasn’t a demon but there was something odd about him.  Sam said he never saw him and we haven’t seen him since.  Maybe he tried to find him.” 

Aimee interrupted her mate at that point “And about an hour ago I overheard someone talking about how a Dark Hunter tried to kill an Appollite kid and the description sounded an awful lot like Sam.  Tall, brown hair, muscular, carried a very large knife.”

Ash’s eyes narrowed.  Knives were Sam’s weapon of choice but he would never attack a kid.  There were rules for a reason and if any of his Dark Hunters broke that particular rule then that was punishable by death.  Instantly.  Ash still had his painful memories of being attacked when he was a defenceless child and he would not permit that action.  _If_ Sam was guilty Ash would kill him himself.

“Sam wouldn’t hurt a kid, Ash”.  Ash couldn’t help a slight smile as Aimee jumped immediately to Sam’s defence.

Ash saw Fang give her a slight sideways glance at her and there was a spark of uncertainty in his eyes and he could tell what the wolf was thinking.  Sam could be a cold bastard at times and if he thought that he had to, if it was necessary, would he?

Ash didn’t believe that Sam would hurt a kid but not everybody in the city would believe that.  Ash sighed.  From now on his men were going to have to watch out for revenge attacks as well as the usual Daimon attacks once that story got out.  Why was life never simple? At least it meant Stryker wasn’t involved in whatever was going on.  It may be screwed up but he had his own moral code.  He wouldn’t sacrifice his own.

“Was the kid hurt?”

“He had a pretty bad knife wound on his throat and some nasty bruises.  But he was more scared than anything else from what I heard”.

“Okay.  Don’t worry Aimee I’ll track him down.”

She smiled and Fang put an arm around her.  She visibly relaxed but was still worried.

Ash headed out of the bar, again trying to locate Sam.  As usual the buzz in the bar had calmed him but still he was unable to find Sam.  Sam was harder for Ash to track than the others due to his constantly upheld psychic barriers but he should be able to find him.  He could feel Sam’s barriers were erect but they felt muted, as if Sam was wrapped in a thick blanket, it was making it difficult for Ash to pinpoint his location.  He sighed.  Savitar would probably be able to locate him which would be easier but he had the feeling that he needed to find Sam quickly.  And the hours of darkness would soon be ending so Sam would be forced to take cover for the day.   

Ash knew that Sam wasn’t really the social type and there was only really one Dark Hunter he almost considered a friend.  He quickly called Jean-Luc.

The pirate answered almost immediately

_“Si”_

Ash got straight to the point.  “When was the last time you heard from Sam?”

Jean-Luc didn’t even hesitate.  “About four hours ago.”

“How did he sound?”

Ash could almost feel the scowl on the pirates face.

“He sent me a message.  He was worried.  It’s been too quiet here.  What’s going on boss?” The question was suspicious.

“Nothing worse than usual.”

“Mierda de torro, boss.”

“Jean-Luc” Ash warned

“First there’s Sam’s mystery monster, then no daimons come out to play and now Sam’s missing.”

“What monster?”  Was he talking about the guy who Fang had mentioned?  Maybe Sam _had_ gone looking for him.

“Some feminino kicked Sam’s telekinetic ass then disappeared in a cloud of smoke.  He asked me to warn the others since you weren’t answering your phone”

“Did you say a woman?” Was there two of them?  Had Sam maybe run into his mate?

“It is the days of equal opportunity Ash.  Now what’s going on?”

“I’ll take care of it.” Ash hung up before he flashed himself to his AWOL hunter’s home and retrace his path.  He would just have to follow Sam’s usual route and see if he could find him.  He didn’t expect to find him there and he really didn’t expect to see what he saw going on under the shady trees of Sam’s home. 

 


	12. Chapter 11

Dean watched Sam as he slowly closed the heavy door behind him. Dean was suspicious of Sam. He knew how to recognise a man with secrets and he knew that this innocent looking kid had many. Dean had noticed the large knife Sam had been carrying when he had left. And it wasn’t just a simple switch blade. It was a large serrated hunting knife with a viciously sharp edge. Dean recognised as it being similar to one he had. It was a blade designed for a single purpose. Killing. Not the usual working equipment of a paramedic. Or even just self-defence. He had already admitted to being psychic even if he hadn’t really had much choice since Dean had caught him in the act. And then there was that thing with the wolves… There was definitely something strange about him. So he searched.

The search of his rescuers home went slowly. Dean was still in a lot of pain from the beating he had received and he had to hobble slowly around. One of the first things Dean was starting to notice was that Sam was very security conscious. He didn’t have any sort of electronic security but each door was its own formidable barrier. Thick, heavy duty oak blocked each exit and Dean was pretty sure each was fire proofed. He had locks that Dean was pretty sure not even he could pick. But there were no alarms of any kind that Dean could see that would alert the authorities. That Dean could shrug off. Not everybody liked the police so Dean could disregard that as nothing more than an eccentricity.  
Dean limped back to the main room where Sam had fed him. First thing he did was pull back the thick heavy floor to ceiling curtains that covered Sam’s large bay windows. From there he had a clear view across the lawn to the formidable iron spikes that made up the high fence that surrounded the place. Anybody approaching would be clearly visible. Sam was right. Nobody was getting near this place without Sam’s knowledge.

 _Paranoid or hiding?_ That was the question that slipped through Dean’s mind.

Dean turned has back and limped across to the table where the sketch of Sam’s vision still sat. This time Dean ignored it and started to look through the large cabinet next to it. There were art supplies of every kind and row upon row of sketchbooks. Some looked brand new and others were brown with age. Dean pulled out a few from various places and flicked through them. Some were the usual landscapes, still life and wildlife. There was one pen and ink that he seemed to have taken special care of. It was of a scruffy, older looking man with an old, stained truckers hat on his head. He was standing in front of a moon lit scrap yard. The man was frowning but at the same time he had a merry twinkle in his eye. It reminded him of an old friend of his Dad’s and the image made him smile

The rest of the images were not pleasant. They contained blood and death. Fire and pain. Torture, traffic accidents, natural and man-made disasters. It disturbed Dean and he shuddered.

“Damn, Sam. If that’s what your visions look like no wonder you have nightmares” he muttered, feeling sympathy for him. A kid his age should not be forced to have that shit in his brain.

He glanced over towards the large bookcase and again ran his gaze over the titles. A large number of the books weren’t even in English and Dean spotted at least one ancient tome in Latin. He also spotted an original first edition copy of Dante’s Divine comedy from 1320. He had so many old things. Dean’s hunter instincts were trying to tell him something but he ignored them for now. Antique collector? That was another strange interest.

Dean paused to stretch out his muscles. Due to his investigations Dean’s wounds were beginning to ache again and he had to acknowledge that Sam was right. He shouldn’t be up and around yet. His Dad wouldn’t care. He felt a twinge of guilt. His father had no idea where he was. Would he care? Sadness threatened to overwhelm him but Dean shoved it aside. A complete stranger was more concerned about his welfare than his own father.

He knocked back the painkillers that the strange kid had left him and sighed with relief as he felt them kick in. His wounds were still throbbing but the drugs meant he was at least functional. Dean carried on with his search.

The next door he came to turned out to be a first class media room and Dean couldn’t help thinking that Sam must have some serious cash behind him. Every piece of hardware was top of the range and row after row of DVD’s sat beside it. He glanced at the walls next. On the walls were several degree certificates. Law from Stanford University, psychcology from the University of Glasgow, philosophy from Sydney University.

How smart is this guy? Dean muttered to himself. Then he frowned when he noticed the dates. They went back several decades to the 1960’s. Sam definately didn’t look that old. Not fifty five. Maybe they weren’t all his. Dean glanced quickly at the names. The first name on them all was Sam but the last name was different. Maybe it was a family tradition. Dean shrugged it off as an eccentricity before he limped down to the next room. At this door he got a surprise and it made him frown. This was the only door he had come across that was locked. Dean scowelled. Whatever was behind this door must be whatever Sam was hiding. A locked door had never been enough to keep out a curious hunter and that was what Dean was to the very core. Dean headed back to where he had left his belongings. He picked up his lock picks and grinned. There wasn’t a lock anywhere that could withstand his delicate touch.

It took Dean longer than it should have to get through that damn door and it brought back a comment of his Dad’s.

“I don’t know why I even brought you along. You cant even pick a damn lock”

Dean could still remember his shaking hands and his shame as his Dad had shoved him out of the way and got them through the door in seconds. If his Dad hadn’t been there that whole family would have died. What Dean didn’t remember about that day was his freshly broken wrist.

The door swung silently open on well-oiled hinges into a pitch black room. He felt around until he found the light and flicked it on before he froze. What he had stumbled into filled him with surprise. He had obviously managed to break into Sam’s arsenal. Weapons of every sort hung on the walls and were stored in every cabinet. And in pride of place, obviously treasured above all else hung what Dean recognised as an oil painting. Dean was no artist but he thought he recognised Sam’s style. The haunting image was of a beautiful blond woman. She looked to be about the same age as Sam. She had a slight smile on her face and she seemed to gaze out of the simple frame with a look of love in her eyes. Her hair was blowing in a gentle breeze and moonlight made look ethereal in the field of sunflowers. Dean moved closer to get a better look at the image of the woman Sam had painted. At the bottom of the image were a few words.

_Jessica. I’ll love you always. Sam_

It was the date next to those words that shocked him, 1504-1523.

“Holly shit” Dean muttered to himself and what his instincts had been trying to warn him of flared to life. He had to get out of here. As he stumbled back from the haunting image of Jessica he couldn’t help glancing over the weaponry. He had weapons from all over the world. Long bow, spears, sai, shotgun, staff, crossbow, whip. And knives. They were everywhere. Blades of every sort decorated the room, glistening in the dim light and each one perfectly cared for. They ranged from a massive Scottish Claymore that Dean wasn’t sure he could even lift let alone fight with, to the tiniest of throwing knives. Not all the weapons were old. A silver plated Tauraus was in a gun cabinet. It looked well used and was in mint condition. It was taking pride of place above a… wait… was that a grenade? And a flame thrower? Dean gaped. Sam certainly didn’t give the impression of a guy with enough fire power to take out a city. Dean was starting to lean towards the ‘Sam’s a pshyco’ theory again, then he remembered. The dates on the degree certificates, all the antiques, and that painting. The haunting image of that beautiful blond woman that Sam had clearly loved over 500 years ago.

He had to get out of here. Dean cursed his injured body as he stumbled back to the room where he had slept oblivious to the danger he was in. He gathered up his possessions and his own weapons which looked like nothing against Sam’s. He had to call his Dad and let him know what he had found before he cursed his luck. His phone would be dead by now. He glanced around when he realised it wasn’t where he left it then blinked in surprise. It was plugged into the wall to charge and the only other person he could have done it was Sam. Why would he do that if he meant him harm? He shrugged off the thought. Not human meant evil.

He grabbed his phone and was dialing his Dad as he stepped out of Sam’s solid front door.

He heard the voice before he saw Sam stepping out of the trees.

“Going somewhere?”

“No.”

Sam arched his eyebrow and Dean could have kicked himself. Stupid answer when it was obvious he was. He tried to back pedal quickly to divert suspicion. “I mean I’m just heading back to my Dad.” Sam already knew his Dad was about so he wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know.

“Do you think that’s wise? You’re a target after all. You don’t want to make John a target too”. Sam’s dark eyes glittered threateningly and Dean felt adrenaline start to surge through his body. Sam knew he was with his Dad but what he didn’t know was his name.

Fight or flight?  Dean didn’t know where he was or the area he was in so he had nowhere to flee too and he didn’t know what Sam was so he didn’t know how to fight him or even if he could.  Dean attempted to relax his body so as not to alert Sam to his thoughts. He would wait and see for now.

“Maybe your right.”

Sam smirked and the expression looked wrong on his face. “Why don’t we go back inside?”

Internally Sam was screaming at Dean to run as he thrashed around. He felt his body jerk and realised he had managed to make Meg stumble. He managed to catch the slight narrowing of Dean’s eyes as he saw the trip. Dean’s suspicion had doubled as Sam seemed to trip on thin air and his usually fluid movements became jerky. His movements smoothed out again and irritation flashed in Sam’s eyes. Something was seriously wrong. He had seen more emotion in Sam’s face in the past few minutes than he had during the whole time he had known him. Had it really only been three days? Sam’s tall frame seemed to crowd Dean backwards as he felt himself stepping away from him. He never took his eyes off Sam’s dark eyes as he felt the unspoken threat. If Dean didn’t back up Sam was going to make him. The next thing he knew was a streak of silver barrelled towards them. A snarl escaped the fangs of the silver wolf in front of him. And this time Wynter’s eyes were fixed on Sam. The wolf’s fur was bristling as it held his ground. Dean’s mind leapt to the first conclusion he could think of. This wasn’t Sam. Dean knew that dogs could detect shapeshifters so why would wolves be any different? He remembered Sam mentioning that they now thought of Dean as part of the pack.

Dean drew his gun and levelled his aim at Sam “You’re not Sam”

Sam smirked again before his whole body jerked and Dean heard an almost silent ‘stop that and get that mutt out of the way. I will kill it’. Sam seemed to be talking to himself now. The groweling animal in front of him didn’t leave his position, using itself to guard Dean.

He looked at Dean. “Of course I am”

At that a black form launched itself at Sam’s back and Dean saw his second protector trying to get his fangs into Sam’s throat. Shadow was all over Sam and was stopping Dean from firing. He found himself not wanting to hurt the animal. Sam managed to get a hold on Shadow and Dean could tell Sam was about to snap his neck. Sam’s body seemed to halt mid movement before he dropped the wolf who lay still. Sam’s eyes seemed to clear for a moment of the hatred that had covered his face as he caught Dean’s eye.  
“Run” that single whispered word sounded more like the Sam he had been getting to know. Then the snarl was back and this time it was Wynter’s turn to attack. Sam merely swept out a hand and the wolf’s leap was redirected to where he smashed into a tree. Finally Dean had a shot at Sam and he unloaded his entire clip at him. Sam didn’t even flinch as he redirected Dean’s aim the same way he had redirected the wolf’s attack. He flung out his arm again and he found himself pinned against the solid door behind him. Sam got up in Dean’s face and Dean got a feeling of déjà vu but the thought was fleeting.

“That’s just rude. Trying to shoot the man who saved your life.”

Dean struggled against the hold. Sam’s body seemed to twitch again and Dean finally managed to draw a breath and he launched a massive punch at Sam’s jaw. Normally that blow would have floored someone but Dean was still injured and Sam barely moved. Dean felt pain sear up his already injured arm and he gasped in pain and that seemed to make Sam pause before tightening his grip again. Suddenly there was a flash and Dean saw a tall guy dressed as a goth with purple hair. The guy looked human but he had just appeared out of nothing. However he was too busy trying to stay conscious to focus on it.

Ash swore when he saw Sam. He knew instantly what had happened to his Hunter. One of the few things his hunters were vulnerable to was ghost possession. He had a struggling man pinned against a wall and the two wolves that were the only friends Sam had were both down. Sam wasn’t going to forgive himself for a long time if this human, whoever he was, got hurt. He grabbed Sam and pulled him back from the human, throwing him against the opposite wall. Sam shrieked in a cry which wasn’t his own. He could see Sam struggling internally to break free from the hold this thing had on his body. This wasn’t ghost possession. This was something different. It was something worse, and a lot stronger than the average ghost. Most other hunter’s without Sam’s psychological protection would have succumbed by now. There was only one way to aid him and it was going to hurt like hell. He blasted Sam with a God bolt and both he and the human watched as Sam doubled over as if he was being sick.

Whatever this was clung despertly to Sam and Ash guessed was struggling to harness the power in the Dark Hunter's body.  Sam snarled “No, I won’t go. This meat suit is mine.”

“You damn well will. Now get out” Ash said calmly before he blasted him again and finally an oily black smoke came streaming out of Sam’s mouth. The smoke seemed to flow in Ash’s direction but he simply quirked an eyebrow at it and said “Do you really want to try that on me? Forget it.”

Finally the smoke disappeared and Ash turned to Sam.

Sam was gasping for breath, barely managing to hold himself up against the wall until he managed to stagger upright then he caught Ash’s eye.  
Ash let him breath for a moment before speaking.

“Something you want to tell me Sam?”


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 12  
Sam simply closed his eyes in relief as he felt the suffocating sensation of the filthy, cloying pressure leave him as he finally got his body back. He didn’t know how long he had been fighting Meg’s presence but his entire being was weary and he was sore, mentally and physically. He groaned. His mental barriers were torn to shreds and his empathic abilities were roaming free, emotions were battering him from every direction and it took him several minutes to pull himself together enough to claw at least some sort of wall back into place between his emotions and the outside world. Even then he suspected it would be several days before they regained their diamond hard protection and all the leaks were blocked. His limbs were heavy and he stayed where he was, just breathing as he tried to fight through the confusing mash of emotions that were tangled with his own. Images and feelings from while Meg had been in control flashed through his mind. He straightened up as he heard a deep voice talking to him for the first time.

“Something you want to tell me Sam?”

Sam groaned and gripped his head as dizziness engulfed him having stood up too quickly. His stomach was churning and he wondered for a moment if he was going to be sick. Actually he wasn’t sure if Dark Hunters could be sick. This time he moved at a slower pace before catching Ash’s eye. Then he looked past him towards where Dean was standing, staring at Sam. And Sam could see where bruises were starting to appear on his throat. Bruises that Sam had put there. All Sam had wanted was to protect him and now he himself had caused him pain. And he noted with concern the absence of his friends. 

Sam just managed to croak out “Shadow? Wynter?”

“They’re fine Sam. Pretty pissed at you though. Took off into the woods. A bit battered but they’ll be fine.”

Sam winced. Ash could tell Sam hadn’t got his powers completely back under control yet and he was broadcasting his emotions for Ash to pick up on. Sam felt so alone right now. His two friends had been with him for centuries and there wasn’t really anybody else he cared about. He saw Sam’s gaze find the human’s again and Ash saw the hidden shame in his eyes. At least until now.

Dean looked angry and Sam really couldn’t blame him.

“What the Hell Sam? You try to kill me and all you care about are bloody wolves!”

Ash saw Sam wince as the blast of Dean’s emotions that to him felt like a physical blow hit him before he managed to block the guy’s anger that was being hurled at him like a spear. Surprise rippled through Ash at this human’s behaviour. For what he had been through at Sam’s hand the guy seemed remarkably un-freaked and seeing a different guy appear from thin air not to mention the attack by a possessed Sam who he obviously knew somehow, hadn’t seemed to have thrown him that much either. He sighed. He wasn’t going to get a proper explanation for this from Sam while the guy was there. Ash waved his hand and flashed him into Sam’s spare bed, momentarily knocking him out and as he did so he felt something not quite human in him.

Ash spoke before Sam got a chance.

“He’s fine. Now care to explain why you have a non-human who doesn’t know about Dark Hunters in your house? Telling me who he is would be a very good start”

Sam knew he couldn’t lie to Ash so didn’t even try. 

“His name is Dean Winchester. He was attacked. I helped him and didn’t have time to get him to hospital. It was too close to dawn. So I brought him here. And he is human”

Ash ignored Sam’s last comment for now. He could tell Sam wasn’t lying but he knew he wasn’t telling him the whole truth either. He was trying to protect the mortal and Ash didn’t like the fact that Sam felt he had to protect the guy from him. 

“I’m going to assume he’s the one from Sanctuary that Fang spotted.”

Sam didn’t say anything so Ash knew he was correct. He locked his swirling silver eyes onto Sam’s and waited for Sam to tell him what he had already guessed.

“He’s a hunter”

“You know the rules Sam and you know they are in place for a reason. We don’t mix with Hunters. It never ends well.”

“I had a vision, I did my job” Sam said coldly.

Ash swallowed back his irritation. There was a lot more to this story and Ash could tell Sam was going to make him drag out every word. Even before he died Sam had a stubborn streak as wide as the Grand Canyon. It was that stubbornness that had kept Sam alive in a village full of superstition and fear of anything different. That kept him fighting against the hatred that had always been aimed at him. Ash let out a breath before refocusing. He needed the rest of this story and Dean would be coming round soon. Sam always tried his patience but that didn’t mean Dean should suffer for it.

“Since he’s a hunter I’m assuming it wasn’t a simple mugging. So are you going to tell me the full story?”

Sam hesitated. He didn’t know why he was being difficult. He had called Ash for his help after all.  
“Whatever it was wasn’t human Ash. Or a were hunter or a daimon or even a type of demon that I could recognise. It was after Dean specifically. It knew his name. It was old and twisted and it was possessing a woman. And I…” Sam voice stuttered to a stop and he looked away from Ash.

“You what, Sam? What did you do?” Ash growled then winced as he realised how damaged Sam’s protective walls were. He was a mess. Sam’s emotions were leaking from him and he was being battered by the emotions of other people. Guilt flooded him and he wasn’t even sure who it belonged to. 

“I killed her Ash. I didn’t know and I killed her. She was innocent, just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Sam couldn’t look Ash in the eye as he battled against himself. “I knew there was something off about her and then she turned into black smoke. What the Hell can turn into smoke Ash?”

Ash paused a moment, thinking. No. It couldn’t be. Not yet.

“I think the more important question is how did she get here and what does she want with him? Now let’s get indoors before the sun comes up”

Neither spoke until Sam was sitting at his large oak table with a whiskey and Ash opposite with a beer and his ever present backpack at his feet. Sam didn’t even ask his enigmatic boss where he got the drink from because he knew that he didn’t have any.

“So what do you know about Dean, Sam?”

“Not much. He’s a good hunter. Been doing it since he was four when his mom died. He’s got some psychic power but I don’t think he knows about that himself.”

Ash frowned at that. “How old is he?”

“Twenty-six I think”

“Any power would have manifested by now”

“I know psychic power when I feel it Ash and he has it. Don’t know how strong but it’s there.”

“What else did Bobby tell you?” 

Sam glanced at Ash before snorting. He should have known Ash would already know he had spoken to Bobby. And the things that Bobby had told him about Dean’s father sprung to mind and his emotions spiked against his shaky control.

Ash felt a blast of anger from Sam hit him. It was always unpleasant being next to a powerful empath when their shields were down.

“His Dad is an asshole that doesn’t give a damn about him, blames him for his Mom’s death. And his soul has been marked by evil. He’s had a bad life and now this thing is after him. God damn it Ash, he’s just a kid and he’s been surrounded by death his entire life! He shouldn’t even have been a hunter since the age of four let alone have this shit on him when his own father is slowly crushing the life out of him.”

Ash tried to ignore Sam’s unusually emotional rant in order to address more important matters “What do you know of her plans?”

“Originally she was just supposed to be watching him but while she was” Sam paused and shuddered “possessing me I got the impression that her plans had changed. She wasn’t following her orders anymore. She’s got another agenda now. Is the kid alright?”

Ash almost got lost in the rapid change of subject but managed to follow Sam’s train of thought. The Appollite kid, the one Meg almost killed. “A little shaken up but he’s fine.”  
Ash just watched as Sam downed his drink and poured himself a larger measure. 

“Jesus Ash, she almost killed a kid using my body. Sometimes I could see what she was doing but other times there was nothing, and other times I could feel what she was doing. She was so excited and was so happy about being able to use me. But she was pissed I wouldn’t give her control of my powers. I almost killed that kid and if I did that, what else did she make me do?”

Ash wished he could answer Sam but he didn’t know himself. But he did know he would have to get Sam out of New Orleans when this was over but first of all they had to figure out what this was. 

“I don’t know yet Sam. I’ll find out and we can deal with the fall out later but I do know you didn’t try to kill that kid, Meg did. You fighting against her saved his life. Ash watched as his Hunter stared blankly into space obviously trying to peer further into his hazy memories before he seemed to shake himself and Ash saw Sam refocus his mind and Ash was relieved. The way Sam had been acting was concerning him. Sam didn’t show emotions, he repressed them. Ash could only guess what a shock it had been to him that his unbreakable barriers had shattered, leaving his emotions as exposed as a raw nerve. He was glad to feel them slowly returning but he knew Sam’s faith in himself had been shaken. 

“Focus Sam” he snapped at him. 

He needed Sam clear headed and thinking straight. Sam glared then Ash could feel Sam gradually controlling himself again. He tossed back another shot just as they heard movement. Dean was awake.

Dean was just stumbling out of his room as Sam entered the hall.

Dean froze when he saw him before jumping to his usual defence mechanism against everything except his Dad. Anger and aggression.

“What the Hell Sam. Who are you really? And what the fuck just happened? I want answers and I want them now” Dean was relieved that Sam had once again returned to his previous persona. His face had turned blank and emotionless again and he was unaware of how much Sam was struggling to hold that image.

“Can we at least have a seat before we get into this?” Sam asked tiredly and Dean was reminded that he has just had something controlling his actions before getting hit by some sort of bolt of light from the other weird guy. He narrowed his eyes at Sam before stomping into Sam’s dining room and sitting at the table. Dean was totally conflicted right now. Sam wasn’t human, that much was obvious and yet he wanted to trust him. Did that say something about him? He knew what his Dad would think. From what Dean could tell it was just him and Sam in the room and was relieved. The other guy creeped him out. But then again what did he know? The guy could turn invisible after all.

“Well? I’m waiting?”

“We both know you’re in trouble Dean. All I’m trying to do is help. You already know I’m psychic.”

Dean nodded then froze as his instinctive dislike of those people kicked in. He hated psychics. Always had. Just as much as he hated witches. They were cruel and manipulative and did nothing but prey on the vulnerable. He didn’t know where his hatred of them began. He knew sometimes his Dad grudgingly dealt with psychics but he knew they weren’t to be trusted. No matter what he wanted Sam couldn’t be trusted and he had the bruises to show it. He focused on Sam’s voice again. 

“And I know that you’ve got some sort of power too”

No. That couldn’t be true.

“That’s bull shit Sam” he yelled at Sam feeling a sense of satisfaction at the hint of emotion that appeared on Sam’s face. He had to get out of here.

“You know what Sam, I can take care of myself” Dean snarled, shoving his chair back then stormed out of the room and Sam heard his front door slam. Dean left leaving nothing but a trail of emotions behind. Sam tried to go after Dean but Ash appeared and stopped him.

Sam glowered at the tall Atlantian and his temper flared. “God damn it Ash! He’s going to get himself killed and you know it!”  
Sam pushed down the desire to punch his boss in the jaw and consequences be damned. He wasn’t stupid enough to do that. Instead he turned and slammed his fist into the solid stone wall behind him.

“Feel better now Samson? Well?”

Sam briefly froze and just continued to glare through narrowed eyes. Ash knew he hated that name. It held too many memories.  
“At least let me watch over him Ash. He’s just a kid and he doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.”

Ash sighed. “He’s not a child and he’s not a civilian. He’s a Hunter and has been all his life and you’ve got a job to do Sam”

“I thought it was my job to protect humans Ash or does he not count?” Sam spat at Ash.

Ash's eyes narrowed as he tried to remain patient. “Sam, be careful what you say to me and remember just who it is you’re talking too” Ash growled a warning which broke through Sam’s rant. Sam just gritted his jaw and continued to glare. Ash didn’t need to sense his anger as Sam wasn’t even attempting to hide his emotions behind a rock solid mask like he usually did. It was radiating from every line in the dark hunter’s body. Ash gentled his tone before speaking again “he’s not your Dean, Sam.”  
Sam turned pale and winced as if he had just been slapped. Hard. Sam took a deep breath and tried to steady his emotions. When he was emotional he was vulnerable. “I know that Ash. Dean died because I failed him and that’s not something I want to do again” Sam’s big eyes pleaded with him in a way he’d never seen before. “Please Ash. In two thousand years I’ve never asked for anything. He’s got no one else to look out for him. No one at all. He’s completely alone. I thought you’d understand that.” 

Ash clenched his jaw at that comment. It was a low blow and he knew Sam knew it but he was obviously desperate. He was pushing the limit of Ash’s tolerance and Sam knew it. Sam continued to glare at him before his body seemed to sag.  
“Fine. It’s your call after all. Chances are he’ll be dead by tomorrow anyway. Or worse.”

Ash narrowed his eyes at the Dark-Hunter. Sam never gave in this easily when he thought he was right.  
“Don’t do anything stupid Sam”   
It was then Ash knew. Sam was going to help this kid whether or not Ash agreed and then he would face Artemis wrath. And if he did then Ash wouldn’t be able to protect him.  
Because this wasn’t the Sam he knew. This was the Sam he used to be. This was the Sam that had once let himself be ruled by his emotions. This was the Sam whose gentle heart had almost gotten him killed on more than one occasion. This wasn’t the Sam who had been hardened by time, bitter experience and more than one deadly betrayal. From a time before Jess and Ruby. This was the Sam who had been burned at the stake. This was Sam as he had been when he was human.  
“I mean it Sam. Do not. Do anything. Stupid.”

“If you don’t mind boss, I’ve got a job to do” the Dark Hunter snapped.

Ash could easily have stopped Sam from shoving his way past him and they both knew it but Ash let him go. Sam had to make his own destiny. As the Final Fate of All, Ash couldn’t interfere, no matter how much he wanted too.

Sam’s temper started to calm as he left Ash behind and with it came guilt. He had been a right dick to Ash and he knew it. Frankly he was surprised Ash hadn’t splattered him against the wall. He put that thought to the side of his mind to think about later. Right now he had to find Dean.

Ash stood for a moment to watch Sam as he left, striding into the night. An emotional Sam was a rash Sam and Ash knew why. Dean Winchester was the spitting image of his long dead older brother. To this day Sam blamed himself for his bloody and brutal death. Dean had been everything to Sam. He was lost in thought until Ash felt a presence materialise behind him. He summoned his staff into his hand and spun round to face the being that had appeared behind him. The man who had appeared in Ash’s personal space looked like an accountant. He was lightly built, with messy dark hair and bright blue eyes. He looked human and completely non-threatening but Ash could sense the presence of power contained in the body before him. Ash’s eyes flashed red.

“Do not interfere with the righteous man, abomination.” Even though the voice was completely emotionless and his expression stoic Ash could almost see the disdain concealed in the words and Ash arched his eyebrow at the insult.

“And you would be?”

“Who I am is not your concern. You will not interfere.”

Ash narrowed his now glowing eyes. “I’ll ask one more time. Politely. Who are you?” because for some reason Ash didn’t know. And he really, really didn’t like not knowing.  
The blue eyes starred straight into Ash’s before the lights flickered and dimmed casting shadows of large wings across the walls.  
“I am Castiel, Angel of the Lord and you are interfering in Our Fathers will.”  
Ash sighed. He hadn’t met an angel in centuries, the last one being a pompous ass called Uriel whose ass he had thoroughly kicked after he had caused the Great Plague that had swept across Europe in the 16th century. Unfortunately by the time Ash had caught him the plague had already started to spread and was by that point out of even a Gods ability to control. Thousands died. Pointlessly. Needlessly. Every single angel he had ever met was an ass.

“Well Castiel, I’m not very impressed with your little light show there and the wing span isn’t nearly as impressive as some other beings I know.”  
The angel tilted his head slightly as if confused by Ash’s lack of concern. Ash had always been irked by the arrogance of the angels. Castiel’s voice was gravely when he spoke again. “Do not interfere or there will be consequences.”

Ash body tensed. He didn’t respond well to orders and he definitely didn’t respond well to threats. He had left those days behind long ago.  
“Threaten me again angel and you will regret it.”

“I do God’s will. Do not act against His word or you will be stopped, Abomination. He has a role to play.” And with that the angel disappeared.

Ash ran his hands through his currently purple hair. The angel had only piqued his interest in the human whose fate he couldn’t read. He again tried searching for Dean’s future but it was blank. Not blank like it was with people who were going to be in his life but blank like somebody was blocking him.

Ash headed out into the night after the two hunters.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 13  
Sam rushed to catch up with Dean hoping he could convince the hunter to stay. Dean was still injured so it was easy for Sam to catch up but it also meant he was still vulnerable.

“Dean, wait, please.” Sam came to an abrupt stop as Dean spun to face him with a snarl. 

“I can take care of myself.” 

Sam sighed “Look, Kid”

Dean arched his brow at this guy who looked so much younger than him calling him ‘Kid’. Sam saw the look and quickly corrected himself. Sometimes he forgot how young he was when he had been killed. Sometimes it was useful but when you were 2000 years old, getting asked for ID to buy alcohol was just embarrassing.

“Look, Dean, you’re in trouble, you’ve got an extremely powerful entity on your ass and another with some sort of evil mastermind plan. And with that stain on your soul you’re going to have Hell Chasers on your ass as well.” Sam paused a moment thinking of Fang. “You’ve already been marked by one.” 

“What do you mean ‘stain’? And what the hell is a Hell Chaser?”

Sam closed his eyes. Shit. Dean didn’t know.

“And what the Hell are you?”

Sam quickly looked at Dean “What do y-“

Sam never got to finish the question. “Don’t try and deny it Sam. It’s pretty obvious that you’re not human if you know what to look for. You can’t go out in sunlight, you always keep your eyes hidden, you have fangs and you can control friggin wolves. Not to mention you’re over 500 years old. I figured that out from your painting.”

Dean felt a brief flash of guilt when the colour drained from Sam’s face and as a flicker of pain appeared in his eyes. “I’m not stupid, Sam. Now what are you before I decide to kill you myself?” Dean bluffed. He had no idea how or if he could do that.

Sam winced at the way Dean so casually mentioned his beautiful Jessica. He stepped away from Dean trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible with his 6 foot 4 frame of hulking muscle. “I’m not going to hurt you Dean” he took a deep breath knowing he was about to break the rules and if Artemis found out his life and soul would be forfeit, “but you’re right I’m not human. At least not anymore.”

Dean tensed up and pulled a long knife, ready to defend himself if he had to, but he wanted answers first.

Sam held up his hands in surrender “I promise I won’t hurt you Dean. All I want to do is help. And for the record I don’t control Shadow and Wynter. They stay with me because they want too.” He paused a moment, his earlier actions springing to mind. “At least they did.” Sam showed no emotion on his face as he said this and Dean could only guess at what he was thinking. Sam meanwhile was struggling to keep his emotions under control and off of his face. 

Emotions make me weak. The mantra ran through Sam’s mind as he repeated it to himself again, remembering what had happened the last time his emotions had ruled his head. 

Dean felt his knife begin to lower. Even though Sam had already tried to kill him there was just something that made him want to trust this whatever-he-was. And Dean was experienced enough in the world of the supernatural to recognise possession when he saw it even if he didn’t know by what. Sam had obviously been possessed and it had caused him to hurt two creatures that he obviously cared about.

Sam watched warily as Dean slowly lowered his knife. He didn’t want to hurt Dean again. “I’m a Dark Hunter. I protect humans against the things that they don’t know are out there. And the odd end-of-the-world scenario too”

“End- of-the-world scenario?” Dean scoffed. “And what do you mean you’re not human anymore?”

“I sold my soul to the Goddess Artemis for an act of vengeance when I was betrayed and killed. I got my revenge and she got another soldier for her army.”

“Bull shit. Artemis? As in the Greek Goddess of the Hunt?”

“That’s the one.” 

Dean didn’t know what to say so Sam carried on.

“Look Dean. There’s a lot you don’t know. Hell, there’s a lot we don’t know. What we do know is there’s some weird shit going down and somehow you’re involved. And going by what you just said you don’t know how your connected either. But I do know it’s important. As in mass slaughter important. You can’t figure this out yourself and I’m guessing that I’m the only one trying to help you.”

Dean felt his resolve start to waiver in the face of Sam’s sincere eyes. Sam had secrets of his own that much was obvious but he had done nothing but be kind to him. It had been a long time since he had been treated like that. Treated with respect. Other than trying to kill him that is. He knew Sam wasn’t human and Dean was pretty sure that if he wanted to Sam could make him go with him but he hadn’t tried.

“I’m not going to force you but whether you want to admit it or not you need help. And I really don’t think this is the right place to discuss this”

Dean had to admit Sam had a point. They were completely exposed here.

“Why do you care so much?” Dean snapped at Sam in an accusing tone. “You don’t know me even if you did see me in some fucked up vision”

Sam went quiet for a moment, something haunted in his dark eyes.

“I don’t know” he said quietly.

Dean didn’t call Sam on that comment as he sheathed his knife before nervously rubbing the back of his neck. His Dad was right. He wasn’t smart enough to figure this out and the only one willing to help was one of the creatures he hunted. He needed help and he knew now he couldn’t go back to his Dad. Sam was right. He was the only one offering. And what did that say about Dean? That the only one to offer assistance was a supernatural being? And what if what he said was true? That he was some kind of freak? Was that why his Dad hated him?

“Okay Sam. What’s first?”

Sam blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected Dean to agree so easily. A hunter and a dark hunter working together. The irony didn’t escape him.  
“First we get you somewhere safe then we can figure out our next move. Usually I’d suggest Sanctuary but with Fang there…” Sam trailed off.

“Sanctuary? As in the bar? And who’s Fang?” 

Sam nodded. “It’s not just a bar Dean. But with Fang there, he’s a Hell chaser so I don’t want to risk it. And judging by our little visitor my home isn’t safe either” Sam paused for a moment looking decidedly uncomfortable before speaking again. “I am sorry about what happened earlier, Dean. That I hurt you, I mean”

Dean could tell that the man before him wasn’t used to apologising. 

Then Dean jumped as another deep voice suddenly spoke in the darkness “I can make it safe”

He glanced at the new comer. He looked even younger than Sam but there was something about him. Some sort of quality that screamed of danger and ancient power. Dean was definitely getting a vibe that broadcasted ‘just look at me wrong and I will splatter your entrails across the walls and nothing you could do would stop it’. He made Sam look weak in comparison. And even without that Dean would think twice about taking him on unless he was very well armed. The guy was huge and towered over Sam. He was broad and Dean recognised the pure muscle and strength that resided underneath the dark Goth gear that he was wearing. An extra inch was added onto his already impressive height by the biker boots he wore. His swirling silver eyes made it obvious he wasn’t human. Dean glanced at Sam who was eyeing him warily in a way that made Dean unsure as to whether this guy was friend or foe.

Sam was unsure of his boss at that moment and he didn’t like it. He had never been in a situation before where he didn’t trust Ash but right now he wasn’t sure of his intentions where Dean was concerned. And Sam knew he would defend Dean. He also knew he didn’t stand a chance against the first dark hunter but it wouldn’t stop Sam from trying. He moved slightly so he was between Dean and Ash.

“Ash” Sam growled in acknowledgement, his voice cold.

“Stand down Samson” Sam scowled at the use of his full name again and recognised it for what it was. A warning from his boss. “We’re going to talk about breaking the rules later.” Then he turned his silver eyes to look at Dean, studying him and Dean gulped. “We’ve got a few things to talk about but first let’s get you someplace safe and then we can sort this out, Dean.”

Dean hesitated, glancing briefly at Sam who had stopped bristling protectively beside him. He nodded at Dean although he still looked uneasy. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me who you are.”

Ash scowled in annoyance wondering why most people he dealt with had an attitude problem. But Ash had been dealing with Dark Hunters and their issues for thousands of years now so he could cope with a single human.

“Just call me Ash. I’m your friend here’s boss.”

Dean felt like an insect under a microscope as the newcomer, Ash, stared at him in the dim light. He fought to keep some semblance of control over the situation as he forced himself to maintain eye contact with the swirling silver ones before him. He refused to let it show that he found the guy’s stare creepy and unnerving. Dean had faced down the most horrific creatures the world could provide, he would not back down to this being he didn’t know or trust as he found himself trusting Sam. He noticed that Sam had slipped slightly in front of him again as if the younger man was using his own body as a protective barrier between the two. Dean saw Ash shoot an irritated glare at Sam at the movement but didn’t say anything about it. Sam just scowled. The harshness completely disappeared from Sam’s tone again “Please, let me get you somewhere safe and let me help you.”

Dean felt his guard drop. He wanted to trust Sam. He wanted to believe that sincere gaze but he wasn’t sure if he could. And he definitely didn’t trust Ash. The ‘supernatural is evil’ mentality had been battered into him growing up and Dean wasn’t sure if he could change that instinct. Sam had blatantly admitted he wasn’t human and if he wasn’t then Ash sure as hell wasn’t either. Dean waivered then broke under those almost black eyes. Then his shoulders slumped and he dropped his gaze and Ash stepped forward. He handed Sam a set of keys. 

“I’m sending you back home. Ward it” Ash mentally implanted the Sigil’s to ward against angels and demons into Sam’s brain. He had intended to ward the house himself but he had felt the angels watching them while Sam was talking. “I’ll join you soon” and with a wave of his hand they both found themselves back in Sam’s house and as Dean swayed unsteadily he heard Sam muttering “Damn it Ash. I hate it when you do that.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure about this chapter so any feedback would be welcomed

**CHAPTER 14**

“Does he do that a lot?”

Sam looked over at Dean who was looking slightly ill and was swaying. Sam took a moment to shake of his own dizziness before he answered him.

“Do you mean magically sending people places or disappearing without any explanation?”

Dean shrugged as his stomach began to settle. “Both I guess.”

“The disappearing with no explanation is a pretty frequent occurrence but the zapping people places not so much. You handled that well. First time he did it to me I puked all over his boots.”

Dean couldn’t help the snicker that came out of his mouth and Sam felt his mood lightening as Dean’s amusement washed over him, the feeling soothing his own ragged emotions. Because his empathic barriers were in shreds at the moment he was feeling all emotions as a psychical force. Sam gritted his teeth, trying to block the unwanted sensation. He didn’t want to feel his own emotions let alone feel the force of others. The mix of the two confused him and brought back memories that were best left buried in the past. But no matter what Sam did he couldn’t help but be affected. That was what had forced to lock his emotions away all those years ago and Sam found himself smiling for the first time in a long time. He tossed a bag of salt to Dean and all the while the expression felt strange on his face. “Let’s get this place secure.”

Dean shook of his remaining nausea and mentally steadied himself. This was something he knew. It was something he was confident in and he felt a spark of warmth. Sam trusted him to do this task. Dean salted every door and every window. This was something he had been doing his entire life. It was something that not even he could screw up. Once he was done he started to wonder what Ash had meant by warding. He headed back to Sam and found him completing a complex pattern he had drawn on the front door in thick black marker. “What the Hell is that?”

“Warding of some kind.”

“Against what?”

Sam looked slightly uneasy at the question. “It’s two different types of warding. I’m not sure against what. To be honest with you I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything similar to it”

Dean couldn’t keep the tone of shock out of his voice as he spoke. “Wait a minute Sam. You’re putting unknown warding around your house and you don’t even know what it’s for. Are you nuts?”

Sam’s voice sounded sure when he spoke “Ash recommended it so it must be good”

Dean tried to hide his surprise. Sam didn’t seem the trusting type. Sam felt Dean’s emotions and stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Dean. “I’ve known Ash for a really long time. He’s been around even longer than I have. I trust him and if he says this will work, then it will work.”

Next thing Dean knew Sam had pulled a knife from nowhere. After Sam’s actions earlier Dean couldn’t help but wince then he frowned as Sam drew the blade along his own arm in a long, deep slice. Thick red blood gushed over the glinting blade in a steady flow and Dean found him staring as it dripped off Sam’s arm. Sam hadn’t even winced in pain as the knife split his skin. Dean’s face paled as Sam dipped his finger in the pool and started drawing a different symbol in his own blood next to the first. Sam hadn’t even hesitated, either in cutting himself or with painting the wall with blood. He froze when he saw Dean’s face, the disgust there was clear and it pained him. Dean knew this type of magic. He should have known someone like Sam would have no qualms about using the blackest of the arts.

“That’s blood magic Sam. That can never be a good thing” he snarled “I should have known”.

Sam just shrugged even though internally he winced at Dean’s disgust. “I’m using my own blood and believe me, it won’t kill me.” He held Deans gaze a moment before turning back to what he was doing. Dean couldn’t hide his unease. In his experience blood magic or sacrificial magic as it was also known was magic at its darkest. Sam hesitated then turned back to look at him again and just held his gaze. “I’m not asking you to trust Ash but could you possibly have a bit of faith in me?”

Dean’s mind twisted in multiple directions as different instincts battled against each other and his own knowledge and experience was mixed up in it all. He could hear his Dad’s voice echoing in his mind yelling vicious words at him. What would he say if he knew he was considering seeking help from a creature that so easily used blood magic? Which instincts should he follow? The ones that were telling him this was a monster to be killed or the ones telling him to trust. Then something in his mind clicked. The voice he had heard defending him in the night when he was at his most vulnerable.

_I’m afraid I can’t let you do that._

Sam hadn’t just found him that night, he had fought for him! He had stood against whatever that black eyed creature had been and saved his life. He nodded to himself and couldn’t help feeling that he would never be the same.

“It was you” Dean murmured almost too quiet for even the Dark Hunter to hear.

Sam looked at him. “What was me?”

Dean just stared at him, unsure what to do with his new realisation. Just at that moment Ash suddenly reappeared and Dean’s hunter training came to the fore and he reacted as trained. He quickly pulled his gun and put three bullets straight into the guy’s chest before he even knew what he was doing. The sound of gunshots seemed to echo through the house. Time seemed to freeze and a vaguely irritated look passed over his face. Ash just looked down before catching Dean’s eye. “Just as well I’m immortal, isn’t it” and if Dean wasn’t very much mistaken he heard a snicker coming from Sam before Ash glared at him. Dean lowered his weapon and just shrugged. “Better safe than dead”.

Ash just stared at him and Dean stared right back, determined not to flinch. Unknown to both Dean and Sam, Ash felt a sense of relief. This human still had some spirit left in him. Maybe he could stand against his unknown enemy. But there was also a tinge of worry. No human should have been able to move that fast. It was as if Dean had known he was there. Sam was right. Dean definitely had some sort of supernatural power and he didn’t even know it. This just kept getting stranger and Ash still couldn’t tell how he was being blocked from seeing Dean’s future. He mentally checked the warding that Sam and Dean had erected around Sam’s house. The warding held firm and the house was secure for now. The corrupted souls were keeping back from the house for now but they weren’t far away. And sooner or later Sam would sense them. He considered the hunter before him and could see the weariness in his eyes. He could also see his pain and he took in the various wounds on his body. If it came to a fight, as Ash was beginning to expect it would, he would be a hindrance. He made a point of not mentioning that until later. He could heal him but he would wait till he trusted them a bit more.  Finally the tall Goth spoke “Grab a seat and let’s get this mess sorted out. Sam you can go first.”

Sam waited until they were all seated before he nodded briefly in acknowledgement. He paced over to where he left his sketchpad and briefly studied the image again then he passed Ash the sketch of his vision for him to study and began the story of everything that had happened since he had been to Sanctuary. Half way through the story, when he reached the part where he found Dean unconscious he momentarily paused. When he spoke again Sam was convinced that Dean could hear the uncertainty in his tone but to Dean he just looked uncomfortable

“And when I looked at his, your, aura… well… There’s a stain, a spark of darkness there. It’s what caught Fang’s attention in Sanctuary”

Dean froze. His Dad was right. He was a freak. Ash turned his piercing gaze to Sam.

“And you never came to me before now?”

Sam narrowed his eyes “I trusted my gut just like you trained me to do. And I did call but you didn’t answer.”

Ash glared. Sam had never been great at following the rules. He practically growled at Sam “And you let yourself get possessed because of it. We are going to add that to the list for later, Sam”

Sam had a displeased expression on his face and Dean decided to label it as his ‘bitch face’ before focusing on the subject at hand.

“What the hell do you mean by a ‘stain’?”

Sam shrugged. “It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s a black parasite of darkness that’s latched on to you.”

“So I’m what? Evil? A monster? Something that needs to be hunted? Possessed? Have a parasitic infection? A supernatural STD? Where the Hell did it come from?” Dean snapped at Sam.

 _Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak_.

The word echoed around him as he remembered the many times his Dad had called him that.

Ash interrupted Dean before he could launch into a tirade against Sam looking for answers he knew Sam wouldn’t have. Ash knew Dean couldn’t see it but Sam’s nerves were strained from the sudden influx of both his own emotions and those of other people. “Tell me about your mother Dean.”

That comment stopped Dean dead in his tracks, narrowing his eyes on Ash. That was one subject he did his best to avoid even thinking about let alone talking about. “Why? It’s none of your damn business. What the fuck does this have to do with her?” Dean had jumped to his feet when he yelled and he was leaning over Ash threateningly. Ash hadn’t moved and Dean felt that power radiating from him but he didn’t back down. Then suddenly Sam stepped between them, protecting Dean with his own tense body again. Dean wondered momentarily when Sam had gone from simply helping him to stepping into the role of a protector, standing between him and a man that he trusted but Dean loathed. And when did Dean start _needing_ a protector? Christ he was pathetic.

“Ash” Sam snapped “let me.” Ash tilted his head in acknowledgement and couldn’t help noticing the irony that this human hunter had stood his ground with Ash yet gave in to the much less powerful dark-hunter who spoke gently to him.

“Look Dean, this stain isn’t something that just appears. It’s been there for a long time and, and were guessing here, we think it has something to do with her death. I’m trying to help. Please trust me to help you.”

And Sam’s voice was so sincere and so heartfelt that Dean couldn’t help but trust him. Ash, however he didn’t trust one damn bit. Dean seemed to freeze and Sam winced, feeling the pain and guilt bleed from Dean’s soul. “She died in a fire. What else do you want to know?”

“I know that’s how you started hunting. We can’t help you unless you tell us what’s going on. Please Dean.”

Ash hid his surprise. He hadn’t heard Sam be that gentle with someone in hundreds of years. His manner, although not as abrupt as many of his hunters had never been so calming, not since Ruby at least.

“Something killed my Mom and we’ve been trying to find it ever since.”

Ash tried to hide his frustration but some of it leaked into his voice. “We’re going to need more than that Dean.”

Sam paused just long enough to glare at Ash.  “Dean, I want to help you but you have to talk to me.”

“Why the hell should I? You lied to me so tell me why I should when you obviously don’t trust me.”

Sam could feel his frustration mounting “Damn it, Dean you’re smarter than this”

Dean, who had barely scraped a GED when he dropped out of school just snorted. He hadn’t been referred to as smart in years.

“Think about it Dean. I’m a soulless, two thousand year old immortal warrior for the human race and you’re a human hunter who has spent his entire life killing things like me and you guys as a general rule tend to be very ‘not human equals evil and has to be killed’.

Dean had to admit Sam had a damn good point and maybe at one point Dean himself had viewed everything in black and white. Now...

“Just tell us about that night”

Dean glared at Ash before he gathered his thoughts. He never spoke about what had happened, even to his Dad when his Dad still cared and Dean would go to great lengths to avoid even thinking about the damage he had caused. He closed his eyes and breathed in sharply before slowly releasing it. Sam could tell that Dean was preparing himself and didn’t say a word, letting him set his own pace. He didn’t want to relive this. His voice was flat and his stare blank as he started to speak.

“I was four when it happened. It was late, really late. I was in bed sleeping but something woke me up. I still don’t know what it was. I didn’t get up at first. Mom always said I should stay in bed at night so I just stayed where I was. I was so scared. I don’t know why I was scared because all that had happened was I’d been woken up. I tried to think about the pie my Mom had made earlier to make my self feel better.  It was peach and apricot, funny the things a kid remembers, huh.  But I just knew something was wrong. I heard a bang then I heard crying. That was what got me up. The bang had come from the direction of my brother’s nursery.”

Ash’s head snapped up at that statement. “You’ve got a brother?”

Dean glanced at him “Not any more” his voice sounded dead as his eyes glazed over as he went on with his story. He didn’t notice Sam watching Ash. Sam had picked up on Ash’s strong reaction to the news that Dean had a brother which Dean had missed, too caught up in his memory. Sam tried to read Ash but he couldn’t. Sam had tried before but Ash was the only being he’d ever met that he couldn’t get anything from. Some people were easier to read than other but he always got at least a hint. But he didn’t need his powers to know that Ash knew something. But then again Ash usually did. He focused his attention back on Dean’s story.

“I crept down the hall to Sammy’s room, all the time expecting Mom or Dad to appear and to tell me to get back to bed. I remember that the room had a weird smell in it. The first thing I thought of was rotten eggs. There was something there. It looked like a man, looked human but it had these eyes…” Dean trailed off and shuddered. “He had yellow eyes. A kind of dirty looking yellow, like bile. And he was standing over my brother and Sammy was crying. I just knew that this thing was going to hurt him, and it was my job to protect him, so I ran at him. I was nothing to him and he just batted me aside. I landed on my back and l looked at the ceiling above me and there she was. My Mom was pinned to the ceiling and her dress was covered in blood. Knife to the stomach maybe. Then she burst into flames and she was in so much pain. And he laughed. The son of a bitch actually laughed.” Dean shuddered as the memory flooded over him and he was back in that burning room. “He went for Sammy again. Mom and Dad always said that it was my job to protect Sammy so I grabbed him. I knew I couldn’t hurt the thing so I bit him when he grabbed Sammy. Bit him as hard as I could. And he just shook me off, threw me against… something…. I think. Everything started to go fuzzy then. Dad came in then just as I was blacking out. Next thing I remember is him shaking me awake and telling me to run. And I did. I left Sammy there to die. It was my job to protect him and I left him there to die.”

Sam winced at the despair in Dean’s voice, the self-recrimination. The self-hatred. And Sam knew that feeling and he knew that nothing he could say would make the heart broken kid in front of him feel better. Nothing could ever fill the hole where his baby brother once was.

“It wasn’t your fault Dean” he said quietly.

Dean glared at him “What the hell would you know, Sam” he snarled.

This time it was Ash who winced. Even though Sam’s face didn’t betray his emotions Ash knew exactly how that comment would stab at him. After all he knew exactly how Sam knew that feeling. “What then?”

Dean seemed to refocus. “Then nothing. My Dad looked for it but we never found it. Didn’t even find out what it was. Although my Dad probably wouldn’t have told me if he did. He wouldn’t want to give me the chance to screw it up”

Sam frowned. Something was missing from Dean’s story. His eyes started to glow and Ash could tell he was scanning Dean. With his powers shredded Ash knew Sam wouldn’t get an accurate reading.

 _Don’t do it Sam_ he thought then sighed when Dean’s eyes widened at the sight of Sam’s inhuman eyes.

“What aren’t you telling us? Why aren’t you telling us?” Dean was lying. Sam knew it. But then again was his judgement compromised? Was Dean manipulating him to do what he wanted just like had been done to him before? Emotions made him weak and Sam couldn’t afford to be weak. There was more to Dean’s memories than he was telling him. Sam couldn’t let his fondness for Dean to interfere.

“You’re hiding something” Sam could feel hurt and pain and resentment. Was it Dean’s? Was it Ash’s? Was it his own? Hell, was it the little old lady that lived at the bottom of the street. He didn’t know. He couldn’t tell.

“What? I’m not hiding anything Sam. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“There’s something missing”

Blame. Dispair. Disappointment. Hope. Fear. Malicious delight. Excitement. Pain. Betrayal. Glee. Love. Loneliness. Hurt. Joy. Worry. Jealousy. Sadness. Self-hatred. Weariness. Violation. Pity. Faith. Trust. Pride.

They were all blending together in a kaleidoscope of emotion and Sam felt it all pushing against him. There was something there on the edge of his mind. Something he could feel. It was a wrongness. A darkness. Where was it coming from? He couldn’t tell. It was all pressing against him. Getting closer. And tighter. And stronger. It was everywhere. He couldn’t get through it. Couldn’t stop it. He had to get out. Get away. Now.

Sam stepped back, away from Dean. His hands went to either side of his head as he tried to block the sensations. Finally it gave. The last shreds of his control collapsed. Sam had to get away.

“Sam? What’s wrong? Sam? Focus on my voice.”

Sam’s walls finally splintered and Dean was horrified as Sam’s eyes flickered between almost black and a soft hazel eventually stopping on the hazel and he stumbled out of the door. Ash knew where he was heading. His iron lined armoury where he could block the pressure in his mind and regroup in the shadow of the woman he loved.

“Damn it Sam” Dean jumped when he head Ash’s voice mutter behind him. “It’s about damn time but why does he have to be so bloody dramatic about it?”


	16. hapter 16

CHAPTER 15  
Dean had shock written all over his face as he stared after Sam. He had no idea what had just happened. Sam had gone from being Dean’s protector to accusing him of… What? He wasn’t just accusing him of lying but of something else. Dean just didn’t know what. And those eyes… Of course he already knew Sam wasn’t human but those glowing eyes made it real for him. And Sam had been doing something to him. Then the way they had flickered. For the first time he found himself actually fearing Sam. Even when Sam had attacked him earlier Dean had at least known he was possessed.  
“Damn it Sam. It’s about damn time but why does he have to be such a drama queen?”   
Dean just glared at him, still too stunned to speak. Ash sighed before speaking.   
“It’s not you he doesn’t trust Dean.”  
“Well that’s what it damn well sounded like.” And instead of feeling angry he just felt tired and to his surprise, betrayed.  
“I suppose it would if you don’t know his history.”  
“What the hell does that mean?” Dean snapped. He was sick and tired of not knowing what was going on.  
Ash hesitated. He was about to do something he never did. He was about to break the trust of one of his hunters. But Dean had to know or he would flee.  
“It’s himself he doesn’t trust, Dean. It’s not my story to tell but I’m going to give you a bit of background. If Sam wants to tell you anymore then he will.”  
Dean felt himself relax slightly. He was finally going to get some answers about the man who had saved his life.  
“As I said, it’s not you he doesn’t trust, it’s his own judgement he doubts. In the past, before he was a Dark Hunter and even for a long time after he died he followed his heart more than his head. One of his powers is empathy. He’s actually one of the strongest empaths I’ve ever known and it took a long time for him to learn to separate his own emotions from those of others. And because of that he made some mistakes. Trusted the wrong people and people, a lot of people, got hurt because of it and he was betrayed brutally by those he trusted. Again. After the last time that happened he clamped down on his emotions, only letting himself feel others so he could always know whose emotions he was feeling and not get them confused with his own. I guess his logic is if he doesn’t have any then if he is feeling something, he knows it’s not his.”  
Ash stood up and walked over to the fridge, getting a couple of beers, keeping one for himself and handing the other to Dean before leaning against the counter. “Most Dark Hunters have had at least one brutal betrayal in their past that made them cry out for vengeance loud enough to be heard in the home of the God’s but Sam’s had a lot more than that. So he clamped down on his emotions and refused to let himself feel so his emotions wouldn’t cloud his judgement again. It makes it extremely difficult for anyone to manipulate him. As a Dark Hunter that’s excellent, as a person not so much. And you, Dean, have broken down his defences. He trusts you but doubts his judgement because that wall he put up to stop himself from letting his emotions rule his head has been destroyed and he knows it. And the last time that happened people died, including someone he cared deeply about died. On top of that, Meg managed to break through his mental defences which he hasn’t had time to rebuild yet so now all these emotions that he doesn’t normally have to deal with, he is feeling as a physical force. He’s currently got the emotions of everyone for miles around clamouring in his mind and has no way to control it. So he can’t decide if he trusts you because he should or because he cares about you. And now he can’t tell if you’re manipulating him or not. You’ve got his emotions all creating a storm inside him and he’s not felt that in a long time. He’s just having a few problems remembering how.”   
Dean just looked at Ash. He had no idea what to say.  
“So why does he trust me of all people? I’m nobody to him.”  
Ash shrugged. “I have my suspicions but it’s up to him whether he tells you. That’s him hit rock bottom. He can start building up his defences again. I’m surprised it took him that long to crack. He will be fine in a couple of hours after a few hours’ sleep. That’s how Dark Hunters heal. Meg wont be able to get the drop on him again. The only reason she managed to possess him this time is that he didn’t know it could be done. None of my other hunters would have been able to fight her off because they don’t have Sam’s defences. They would have been crushed. I have things to do so I’m going to leave someone with you in case any of the bad guys show up. Simi?”  
Dean jumped to his feet as his hunter instincts came into play as a dragon like creature seemed to lift itself off of Acheron’s skin. The multi coloured dragon quickly changed into a young woman dressed in all Goth gear with purple hair identical in colour to Acherons and a pair of red horns emerging from the strands.  
“Yeah Akri, whada’ya need?”  
Simi turned glowing red eyes on Dean then hissed as she saw the large knife in his hand that he had seemingly pulled from nowhere. Ash was impressed at the speed of Dean’s reactions but he wouldn’t stand a chance against the young demon. “Simi, no. Dean’s a friend.” She hissed again.  
“What the Hell is that?”  
Simi narrowed her glowing eyes “I’m the Simi” she pouted. “You’re very rude. Are you sure he’s a friend Akri? If not can I eat him? I could use my special hot BBQ sauce that the Simi likes so much. Please Akri? He be good BBQ”  
“No Simi you can’t eat Dean. I need you to watch him until Sam gets back.”  
“But Akri, the smelly human has a knife. That’s very rude. Lexi always tells the Simi to be polite so shouldn’t he be polite too?” She glared at Dean a moment then she smiled. “Sammy? Is Sammy here? He gives the Simi lots of good things to eat. Like BBQ cookies. He would let me eat the smelly human.” She looked around as if searching for him.  
Ash couldn’t keep the amusement from his eyes at the bemused expression on Dean’s face even though his grip and aim never faltered.   
“No, Sam isn’t feeling very well at the moment so he isn’t here yet but Dean here is a good friend of Sam’s.”  
“Okay Akri but the Simi doesn’t like him, he’s rude. Why can’t I eat him?”  
Ash sighed before addressing Dean “Can you lower your weapon? It really would make this so much easier”  
Dean lowered his knife but kept it within easy reach and the suspicion remained. Dean couldn’t help wishing that Sam was there. Sam he trusted but these two…  
It was only when Dean started to lower the blade Ash noticed the intricate etchings on the serrated blade. They were Atlantian. Ash felt the blood run from his face. Dean had an Atlantian dagger. The only weapon that could hurt Simi. Ash had thought he had destroyed them all himself. It was different from the others he had seen but it was definitely from his homeland. Where the Hell had he got an Atlantian dagger?   
Ash realised Dean had tensed again. He had noticed Ash staring at his knife and his automatic response was to go on the defensive. Ash tore his gaze away. It was obvious Dean didn’t know what he had and Ash didn’t want to spook Dean further, at least until he knew what was going on and how the human was involved. And how the Hell had he gotten hold of an Atlantian dagger?   
“Simi, watch over Dean until Sam gets back.”  
“Where you go Akri?” Ash smiled at the young demon.   
“Sam will be back soon when he feels better, just keep Dean safe until then.”  
Simi pouted then sighed dramatically. “Okay’s”  
Ash turned to Dean who still looked wary. “Simi won’t hurt you.”  
Dean gave a disbelieving snort. “She’s already threatened to eat me.”  
Again the demon sighed but this time managed to sound exasperated. “The Simi promised she won’t eat the smelly human. That would make Sammy sad and Sammy already has inside hurts although he does such a good job of hiding them, The Simi still knows.” She nodded as if the conversation was over.  
“You did just pull a knife on her, Dean.” Ash smiled at her then turned and walked out the house.  
Dean watched the creature as she started rummaging around Sam’s kitchen before sighing dramatically. She turned and faced Dean and pouted “No cookies. Sammy makes the best BBQ cookies”.  
Dean couldn’t help it. “Barbeque cookies? Seriously?”  
She looked at him and with a quick flash of fang grinned at him.   
“Yeah. Sammy makes them especially for the Simi. Says they’re special just like the Simi.”   
Dean couldn’t help smiling back at the childlike wonder in her eyes. He had no idea what this creature was but right now was going to give her the benefit of the doubt.  
“What are you?”

“I’m the Simi. Haven’t I already told you that?”

“Yeah, you told me who you are but didn’t tell me what you are.”

She scowled at him as if what he was saying was making no sense to her and an expression crossed her face that gave Dean the impression that he had hurt her feelings. She actually pouted making Dean feel like he had just picked on a young child. He carried on speaking in an attempt to undo any hurt he had caused. 

“It’s just that I know about a lot of supernatural creatures but I’ve never seen or heard about anything like you.” 

That put the smile back on her face and Dean could now see the small fangs she had when she flashed a smile. 

“Silly Dean. I’m not a supernatural beastie. I’m a Charonte and Akri is my Daddy. Did Sammy make you his special soup? Hmmm?” 

Dean tried to back away when the young woman stuck her face a little too close to his. 

“Well? Did he? If Sammy made you his special soup that means you must be quality people.” She cocked her head to one side. “Even if you do smell funny.”

Dean decided to just ignore her comment and frowned when he found himself wondering what Sam was doing right now.

Unbeknown to Dean, Sam had taken shelter in the only place that gave him true comfort. He felt ashamed of how he had acted towards Dean. He was supposed to be helping him, not accusing him of something. He had retreated to his gym where he trained under the gaze of the woman he loved. He stared at the painting of her that he had done so long ago. 

“Why did you leave me?” he muttered. 

She was going to return Sam’s soul to him, make him human again. They had planned on spending what remained of their mortal lives together. If she had lived long enough. But she hadn’t. He had got her killed. He had to pull himself together. Although his life as a human hadn’t been easy since he had been the crazy hermit of his village with only his brother to protect him, he would return to those days. Then he got angry at himself. If he hadn’t been turned into a Dark Hunter he never would have gotten those few blissfull weeks he had been with Jess. If he had been made human he wouldn’t have had to deal with this. This constant pressure on his mind. Sam’s entire body froze. His mind was silent.  
“Oh shit” he muttered to himself. 

He reached out with his mind. He could feel a slight flicker on the edge of where his powers should be but no more. His empathic abilities were still there but they seemed to be muted and extremely limited. He searched the place where his visions and aura reading came from. The visions remained but were no longer as powerful as they had been but his aura reading had disappeared. He tried to knock a nearby knife of its stand with his mind but it didn’t even twitch. His dark-hunter powers were gone. Sam slumped on the only chair in the room and closed his eyes, resting his head on the wall behind him. He hadn’t felt this vulnerable in centuries and he didn’t know when he would get his powers back. He knew the first step to getting them back was sleep. Sam felt his eyes drift shut in the deafening silence of his mind.


	17. chapter 17

CHAPTER 16  
Sam was woken to a loud crash resonating through his home followed by the sound of a gun firing. His first thought was that Dean was in trouble and the second was that he could barely sense the invader. He grabbed the nearest weapon to hand that would be suitable for close quarter fighting as well as his backup that he still had strapped to his arm from the night before. Thirdly he could tell that the sun was up. Right now he was at serious disadvantage if he had to fight. Sam didn’t even hesitate.

He leapt to his feet and sprinted through his home to where the noise had come from. He burst into his main room to find Dean pressed against the wall, held there by a telekinetic grip. He was struggling against the hold that was crushing him but it was futile. Sam spun to find his attacker and froze as he realised who held Dean against the wall from across the room, with Dean’s knife in his other hand. Sam had already noted that Ash was nowhere in sight. There were few beings that caused genuine fear in Sam since he supressed his emotions but this was one of them. If he was involved in this then things were quite literally going to go to Hell. 

The intruder turned multi coloured eyes on Sam as Dean chocked against the wall.

“You” Sam snarled.

“Ash’s warding packs quite the punch. I’m guessing he used your blood for the extra strength. Smart, but not smart enough.” His green and brown eyes glanced at Dean before swiftly moving back to Sam who was slowly moving towards Dean. 

“But then it’s not me he’s trying to keep out is it.” 

When he spoke again Sam’s voice was low and threatening. “Let him go Jaden.”   
The man in front of him merely smirked at Sam. 

“What exactly are you going to do if I don’t? You can’t even come close to killing me.”   
Sam knew he didn’t stand a chance against the Demon Broker who could kill him without even trying. But if he was going down he was going down with a sword in his hand, fighting to protect the only person he had cared about in a long time.

“Maybe not but I can try. Now let him go.”

Jaden just laughed at Sam’s comment but he did release his hold on Dean who crumpled to the floor. Sam moved to his side but didn’t look away from the man before him. Sam wasn’t stupid. He knew the only reason he had released Dean was because he had wanted to, not because of anything Sam had said.

“You okay?” Sam asked Dean, never taking his eyes off Jaden.

Dean rubbed his neck tenderly and when he spoke his voice was hoarse.

“Yeah but I’m getting really fed up of being strangled.”

“So tell me Sam, is this little human the reason you lost your powers?” 

Dean stared at Sam in shock, noticing for the first time that his eyes had gone from almost black to a soft hazel brown. How could he have caused Sam to lose his powers? He seemed to cause destruction wherever he went. He was toxic. Dean pushed himself up the wall to stand next to Sam. He shoved that thought to the side as now that he wasn’t being chocked Dean could get a closer look at the man who had trapped him. But that didn’t stop Sam feeling Dean’s guilt with his now limited empathy.

The man that Sam had called Jaden had creepy multi coloured eyes, one brown and one green that had initially glowed and Dean could almost feel the judgement in them. He was taller than Sam but his frame was lighter although he could see the muscle rippling beneath the tight white T-shirt, black leather trousers and leather jacket that he was wearing. Thick black hair fell to his shoulders almost hiding a thin, gold band around his throat. Dean shuddered under his gaze.

“That’s none of your business” he heard Sam snap at him. Dean was sure that getting on this guy’s bad side was not a good idea. Dean saw what Ash had meant about Sam letting his emotions rule over logic when he saw Jaden’s fearsome eyes harden, any amusement gone.

Jaden’s voice lost all humour and turned cold “Actually it is. If you’re baby-sitting Boy King here you really should be at peak form but that’s up to Ash. And you would do well to remember who you’re talking to. Ash isn’t here to protect you right now Dark-Hunter.”

Sam didn’t say anything in response.

After a moment the threat seemed to leave Jaden’s eyes. 

“Because I’m feeling generous I’m going to help you out”

Sam’s eyes narrowed but now that Dean was free he had lowered his sword.

“Why?”

Jaden just shrugged and grinned coldly. “Because I enjoy pissing certain people off but that’s above your paygrade.”

Jaden muttered something under his breath too low for Sam and Dean to understand then waved his hand in a peculiar fashion and Sam heard Dean yelp beside him before feeling a searing burn on his own chest. He pulled down his T-shirt enough to see what had caused the burning sensation and there on the left hand side of his chest was a dark tattoo. It appeared to be some sort of symbol of a pentagram surrounded by a sun. He glanced quickly at Dean who was doing the same. He had a matching tattoo in exactly the same place.

Sam closed his eyes briefly before opening them abruptly when Dean snapped at the man before them. He could almost feel his Dark-Hunter tattoo tingle on the back of his neck. He knew the power that a tattoo could hold. And one put there by Jaden… He felt his own fear for the first time in centuries.

“What the Hell is this?” and Dean started to advance on Jaden with his fists’ clenched and anger in his eyes. Sam grabbed his arm holding him back. Threatening Jaden was a fast track to death.

“It’s an anti-possession mark. Stop’s what happened earlier from happening again. Thought you would be more appreciative of that Sam since you’ve already been possessed once today. I could also give you some advice. ”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “What do you want? You never do anything for free.”

“True but I have already given you one freebie today. This one will cost you.”

Sam knew that dealing with the demon broker was never a good idea but with Ash having disappeared again he knew they needed more information. One thing he did know about Jaden was that the bastard never lied.

“What do you want?” Sam repeated.

“Not much. Just a small sample of blood.”

Sam hesitated before picking up an empty container that was sitting nearby and pulled a knife, preparing to slash his arm. “This won’t tie me too you?”

Jaden ran his eyes disdainfully over Sam “Oh but Sam, I don’t want yours. A dead man’s blood is no good to me” and then he turned his gaze to Dean who had been letting Sam control this situation as Sam seemed to recognise who it was they were dealing with. 

“Not a chance” Sam snapped and this time it was Sam who found himself pinned to the wall by Jaden who hadn’t even glanced in his direction. He couldn’t move and he couldn’t speak.

“I don’t think you have any say in this matter Sam. Well Dean what do you say?”  
Dean didn’t even question how he knew his name.

“He’s right Sam. This is my choice” he snatched the goblet from Sam’s grip, made a deep cut in his arm and held it over the goblet. Sam watched in horror as Jaden hungrily watched the red liquid flowing from his arm. When the cup was full he handed it to Jaden. And as the man drank it slowly a suspicion started to form in Sam’s mind. He hoped he was wrong.

An expression of disgust crossed Dean’s face at the delight in Jaden’s eyes as he drank Dean’s blood, savouring the taste. Sam felt the force of Jaden’s euphoria and felt himself released from his grip. He immediately ripped off a section of his t-shirt and wrapped it around Dean’s still bleeding arm, hiding the sight from Jaden’s hungry eyes.

“Mmm. Delicious. Now my advice to you is to find out more about Deans missing memories. You might want to ask Daddy about that.”

“My Dad?” Dean questioned. “That’s it? That’s all you’re giving us?”

“Trust me Kiddo, that’s plenty. Ask him about that block in your mind while you’re at it”

Dean tried not to show his confusion.

A mist had started forming on the floor surrounding Jaden’s feet while he had been speaking. It seemed to crawl up his body, obscuring him from view.

“What block? What the Hell are you talking about?” Dean yelled, beginning to sound desperate. He just wanted a real explanation. “And what did you do with Simi?”

The mist continued to grow and soon all that could be seen of Jaden was a pair of glowing eyes before they too disappeared into the fog which then vanished just as Jaden’s voice echoed around the room.

“She’s safe.” Then there was nothing. 

There was silence in the room as they both simply stared at where Jaden had disappeared. 

Finally Sam spoke “Simi was here?”

Dean seemed to hesitate for a minute before he snapped angrily at Sam. “Christ Sam, is that all you’ve got to say about that? Yes she was but she disappeared when that thing told her too. Just who and what the Hell was that that I just fed my blood too?”

Sam ran his hand through his hair, considering what to say. In truth he didn’t know much about the man but what he did know wasn’t good. He had only crossed paths with him twice before and neither experience had been a good one.

“Nobody really knows what Jaden is really but he’s a demon broker. If a demon wants something bad enough they go to Jaden. If they are willing to pay his price he provides the means for them to get it.” He paused before speaking again. He didn’t want to scare him but Dean deserved the truth. “He’s a nasty piece of work however he never lies. If he says we should speak to your Dad then we should.”

“And what about these damn tattoos?” he gestured at his own chest where the mark was hidden. Sam didn’t want to admit that the unknown symbol made him uneasy too.

“I don’t know. It’s not one I recognise but since it’s been put there by Jaden I don’t think it’s coming off.”

“Christ Sam, I’ve got no idea what he was talking about. Missing memories? Block in my mind? What the fuck? And how would he know anyway and why the Hell should we trust him?”

Sam sighed then paused before speaking. “I could make a few guesses but I think we should speak to your Dad first.”

Sam really hoped Dean wouldn’t push it. He didn’t really want to explain his theory that there was something blocking his psychic powers without proof.  
Dean seemed to sag in on himself. He really didn’t want to see his Dad again but he knew Sam was right.

“Anyway, I can’t do anything till tonight. I’d rather not burst into flames.”

Dean didn’t say anything for a while. He could go by himself but he didn’t want to see his father alone. Shame hit him with that thought. He owed him so much after all. But Dean wanted answers and if his Dad could give him some then he deserved the truth.  
“Okay Sam. I’ll wait for you. We’ll go at sun down.”


	18. Chapter 18

Sam hated waiting. Patience had never been one of his strongest qualities and he wanted to be doing something, anything. He also wasn’t used to being around the same person for such a long period of time and he definitely wasn’t comfortable being without his mental barriers. It made him feel vulnerable and off balance. He knew that the only thing that would return his powers would be time. It was making him uneasy and due to the nervous twitching he could tell that Dean was picking up on this. Sam was dreading the coming hours.

So many questions were swirling in Sam’s mind. He wanted to know about the symbols that Jaden had given them. Possession against what? He still didn’t know what that creature had been. He considered calling Bobby again but decided against it. It would just piss off the grouchy former squire. 

Dean interrupted his musings. “What did he mean about you losing your powers Sam?”

“I didn’t lose my powers.”

Dean sighed in exasperation. “Look Sam, just do me one favour. Don’t lie to me. You, yourself said that that guy or whatever he is, never lies and he said you lost your powers and that you lost them because of me. And I can see for myself that your eyes have suddenly changed colour. So are you going to tell me the truth? Oh, and Sam, you’re a terrible liar.”

Sam hesitated, wondering how much to tell him. He definitely wasn’t going to mention the fact that when his powers were working he was an excellent liar. He didn’t know how safe Dean was from Artemis’s wrath and Ash wasn’t here to ask.  
He tried to stall “What did Ash say before he left?”

Dean just looked at Sam. It was obvious he knew what Sam was doing. “He just said he had things to do and said he was leaving Simi as protection. Then he vanished.”

“Typical” Sam muttered before focusing on Dean again. “Look Dean before we get into this we might as well get comfortable. This could take a while.”  
So they did. Dean didn’t complain as he knew he would finally be getting some answers. They settled in Sam’s front room with the thick curtains blocking all sunlight from outside with only a single lamp providing a warm glow.  
Dean could tell Sam was gathering his thoughts so stayed quiet for a moment before speaking.  
“Well?”  
“Look, Dean, I can’t tell you everything for safety.”

Dean interrupted him at that point, annoyance in his voice. “Look, I may not be thousands of years old but I am a hunter Sam” he snapped, not even trying to keep the anger from his tone. “I’ve been dealing with shit like this my entire life. I think I can handle it.”

“I don’t just mean your safety.”

That pulled Dean up short before he spoke again. “What do you mean?”

“You already know I work for Artemis. She doesn’t want to be publicly linked to what we do and if she finds out about what you already know let alone about what I’m about to tell you, even Ash wouldn’t be able to cover for me. And she just doesn’t like your kind of Hunters in general”

“Well she’s not here and I’m not going to tell her.” 

“She’s a Goddess Dean, she doesn’t need to be here.”

That shut Dean up and Sam continued to talk.

“When each of us is made a Dark-Hunter Artemis gives us some sort of ability. My case was slightly different. l already had some psychic powers before I was killed. I had my visions, which you’ve already seen in action” and he indicated the shelves full of sketchpads “and I could feel peoples’ emotions. Artemis increased my empathic abilities and added some telekinesis to the mix. At the same time Artemis gives us a way to get free of this life and become mortal again. A get out clause she calls it, but she doesn’t tell us what it is.”

Dean interrupted again “Sounds like a bitch to me” and couldn’t help but feel proud at the small smile he managed to get from Sam at that point before he carried on.

“I’ve only met her once and I was being burnt at the stake at the time so I wasn’t really paying attention to her personality traits. Anyway, it’s different for each of us and I guess I’ve found mine. When I was possessed earlier my control of my empathy was broken and now, well” Sam shrugged and the gesture looked so unnatural on him it made Dean uncomfortable. “I’ve still got my visions and I can still read emotions but the rest is gone and when that happens our eyes change back to the colour they were when we were alive” Sam shrugged again “its temporary, they’ll come back in a few days. It wasn’t really you that caused me to lose my powers Dean. It is true that Jaden never lies but he knows how to manipulate the truth. He can twist it enough to make you doubt everything you knew without actually saying anything wrong. I think the phrase ‘it’s not what he said, it’s the way that he said it’ was created especially for him. That’s one of the things that makes him so dangerous. He doesn’t need to lie.”

They sat in silence while Sam ordered his thoughts and wondered what else to tell Dean. He definitely wasn’t going to tell him his theory about why Jaden had asked for his blood and luckily he hadn’t asked.  
“Whatever is going on it has to be big otherwise Jaden wouldn’t be getting involved.” Sam could feel his frustration mounting and he didn’t like it. He wanted his 

“So what do we do now?”

Sam could feel his frustration mounting and he didn’t like it. He wanted his mental barricades against his own emotions back.

“I hate not knowing what’s going on” he muttered then regretted it as he felt Deans guilt. “I don’t think there’s anything else we can do until my sources get back to me, it gets dark or Ash reappears. In the meantime I’d like to check on your wounds again then grab some sleep. Hopefully that will recharge my powers.” He didn’t want to admit to Dean how weak he felt without them. 

It was only then Dean realised that although he was still stiff and sore he wasn’t as sore as he should have been.

“I’m actually okay” and Sam could hear the surprise in his voice. He walked over to Dean to check for himself.

“Looks like Ash did some healing while he was here. Probably didn’t want your ability to defend yourself impaired.”

“He can do that?!” Dean exclaimed, unsure about how he felt about that.

“There’s a lot he can do. He's more powerful than you think. Now I need to recharge my powers and the only thing that can do that is time and sleep. You might want to grab some sleep yourself. I’ve got a feeling it’s going to be a long night. Otherwise make yourself at home”.  
Sam ran his hands through his hair tiredly then fingered the amulet that hung round his neck, out of sight under his shirt. Sam hid his discomfort at the idea of someone he hadn’t known for more than a few days wandering about his home while he slept. He still wasn’t sure he could trust his own judgement and he didn’t have Shadow and Wynter to watch him now.

Dean actually thought that sounded like a good idea. He just hoped he could sleep without being plagued by nightmares.

Sam left him alone as he headed back to his room. Before he collapsed on his bed he snapped a picture of the mark Jaden had left and sent it to Bobby. His last thought was about Ash. Where the hell was he?


	19. chapter 19

Chapter 19  
Unbeknown to Sam, Acheron was conducting his own enquiries. Being a god of fate meant he always knew what was going on but right now all he knew was that his powers were being blocked. And not knowing really bothered him. He was one of the most powerful Gods in existence so there were very few beings that could block his abilities. As soon as he had left Sam and Dean he had gone to see someone that might possibly be able to give him some answers.

Savitar’s island wasn’t anywhere permanent. It moved around the worlds’ oceans and was as mysterious as the man who lived on it. Beautiful clear blue sea’s surrounded a white sandy beach. It was a surfer’s paradise. Very few people could come and go to Savitar’s home as they pleased and Ash was one of the few. Most people feared Savitar because of his powers but he was also feared for his unpredictable nature and short temper. He was one of the few remaining Chthonians, only his kind could kill a God without destroying the world in the process but to Ash he was a friend and a brother. When Ash had first became a God, it was only with Savitar’s help that he managed to keep his powers from consuming him. Without him Acheron would be one of the monsters he fought to protect the world from.

Ash knew immediately where his old friend was. He materialised on a surf board in the warm ocean with waves gently washing over him. Rays of sunlight sparkled on the water’s surface. He quickly spotted his old friend balancing on his own board nearby. Smiling lavender eyes watched him as he coasted over to him. 

”Grom. Good to see you” he greeted him with a welcoming smile.

“Hey Sav. We need to talk.” At that his smile turned to a frown.

“What’s going on?”

Ash stared at the horizon a moment before speaking “The angels are back on Earth.”  
Savitar didn’t respond.  
“Damn it Savitar, they’re shielded from me somehow and we both know they shouldn’t be here. If you know something you need to tell me”  
This time Savitar just sighed as he stared into the sun. “Things are shifting Grom. Something has changed.”  
“The question I need answered is what? I’ve got a human hunter running around with an Atlantian dagger that looks nothing like any I have ever seen, angels floating around attempting to threaten me and corrupted human souls capable of possession. Not to mention the human with a tainted soul and psychic powers that he doesn’t know about. And he’s being targeted by the angels for some reason. The only beings that should be able to possess my hunters are ghosts. If it had been anyone but Sam that got possessed it could have been disastrous. Even so it took a while for him to get rid of her.”  
Savitar sighed as the waves gently rocked him on his board. “You know as much as I do, Grom”  
Ash scowled. Savitar was lying about something. Ash knew Savitar had his own secrets, Ash did too but he needed answers and he had no connections in that pantheon.  
He felt himself getting angry at his old friend. “You’re going to have to tell me at some point.” Ash recognised that determined look on his friends face and knew he was going to tell him jack shit. Then one name sprang to mind and he groaned to himself. Thorn.

“If you decide to tell me whatever it is your hiding you know where I’ll be.” 

Savitar’s lavender eyes met Ash’s silver ones and Ash could see regret there. His friend wasn’t going to get involved in whatever this was if he could avoid it. Ash was going to have to go to Thorn. He hated dealing with Thorn. His realm was death and despair and Ash had enough of that in his life. And he still had to deal with Artemis’s little problem. He sighed, then his entire body tensed and his worry spiked. He had to find Simi first. He felt it as soon as his adopted daughter had left Dean’s side. And he couldn’t just summon her like he normally would. If angels were involved in this mess, whatever this mess actually was, they might be tracking the creatures that disgusted them. Which was basically any intelligent creature that wasn’t an angel. He didn’t want her anywhere near them. A normal angel blade couldn’t hurt her but an archangel blade could. 

Just at that exact moment his cell began to ring. He gritted his teeth at the cheesy pop song that sounded loudly from the small black device. Simi had been playing with his settings again. What did ‘zig-a-zig-a’ even mean? He wondered who had sold their soul to Jaden to make that piece of crap tune so popular. There was no other way the Spice Girls could have possibly been so famous for so long. He answered it quickly just to stop the damn noise, not even taking the time to check who was calling. He hoped it wasn’t important because right now he just didn’t have time for anymore earth shattering events.

“This better be important” he snapped at whoever was on the line.  
“Hello to you too, Ash”  
He relaxed as he recognised the lilting accent of his son in law. The Sumerian god sounded more amused than anything else.  
“Long day?”  
Ash just sighed. Again. And the thought came to him that he was beginning to sound like he had a chest infection. “You could say that.”

“Well hopefully this will help.”  
“I could do with some good news.”

“Well, I’ve got something here that I think you might have lost.”   
Ash heard laughter and cheers in the background. He must be at his casino in Las Vegas.

“Simi just turned up here unannounced. Just thought you’d want to know.”

Instead of calming him down it just made him more anxious. Simi would never just abandon her post.

“Why’d she come to you?”

“She said Jaden sent her. Don’t worry, she’s fine. I’ve got her watching the jewellery shopping channel and she’s eating her way through half my chef’s kitchen. He’s having a great time coming up with the strangest recipies for her. The paprika meringue went down especially well. What the hell did you do to keep her entertained before cable was invented?”

Shit, now Jaden was getting involved in this shit and he decided he didn’t want Simi anywhere near it. He had a feeling this was going to get messy before it was over.  
“Don’t even ask. Do you mind watching her for a bit?”

“Sure” Syn paused for a moment before adding “you want to tell me what’s going on?” 

“I’m not sure yet.” Ash didn’t dare mention the angels to Syn. He had his own grudge to bare against them from a long, long time ago. And the last thing he needed was for Syn to go into revenge mode. His daughter that he had just met for the first time recently would be furious with him.

“You know if you need backup…” 

He could hear the concern in Syn’s voice.

“I’m good for now. I’ll let you know if that changes.”

“Okay” was Syn’s reply before he hung up. Syn wasn’t the type to say goodbye.

Now he knew where Simi had disappeared to he had to fix Artemis little problem. As much as he would be quite happy for the bitch to die, he knew he couldn’t let that happen. He cursed her under his breath and silently hoped Sam had pulled himself together enough to take care of Dean. Dean was important somehow and he had to find out what he was tied up in. He cursed Artemis again. Damn, he hated her now and yet once upon a time he would have, and actually did, give his life to protect her.  
He calmed his mind trying to locate Maxmon then growled in frustration. As he was a god from another pantheon he’d have to do this the hard way. He would deal with that, then Thorn who rarely left his domain then head back to Sam and Dean. He might even track down Jaden if he had the chance. He flashed himself to where he suspected the Mayan god of vengeance to be.


End file.
